After the End
by Ghrelt
Summary: Shepard may very well be losing her mind. Grounded and barred from combat, will she find a way to deal with the trauma she's been through and make a life for herself after the Reaper War? Admiral Anderson and James Vega have a plan to help, but she probably won't like it. A slow-build FemShep/Vega-centric story that continues on from the original ending.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

**This is my first story. I hated how Mass Effect 3 ended, so I altered the ending slightly and this story continues on from there. It follows the original ending of the game pretty closely, with a touch of indoctrination theory to make everything fit. This story has already been completed, so I plan on publishing a chapter a week unless someone talks me into uploading them more often. I had no beta reader, so any mistakes are purely my own. I'm looking to improve my writing so any constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated.**

**These characters and the world of Mass Effect are the property of Electronic Arts and Bioware.**

Legs burning. Chest heaving. Arms pumping. Shepard crested the hill and took in the view of the Pacific Ocean.

Vancouver.

Or what was left of it anyways.

Of what few tall buildings remained, most were burned-out husks. The Alliance had already done some pre-emptive demolition of the ones deemed unsafe. A precursory search for survivors and usable supplies, a few hours to clear the ground and a precision air strike and the building came crashing down.

It seemed humanity had taken over where the Reapers left off.

Reapers.

Shepard could see the carcases of three from where she was running. That was without bothering to try. Many of them had been towed out of atmo and dumped on the moon. Not one had shown any sign of life since the Catalyst had been fired. The Alliance refused to take any risks though.

She was glad they finally caught on to the danger. Far too late, in her opinion. She still remembered the logs of the Cerberus employees who'd died on the 'derelict' Reaper she'd scabbed that IFF beacon from. The way they couldn't remember what memories belonged to whom. One of them had asked, "Does a dead god dream?" Still remembered the overwhelming sense of oppression, of being _watched_ the entire time she'd been on that godawful heap. It had been dead for millions of years. Yet it still had power over people's minds.

_Fire every last fucking one into the sun_. That's what Shepard would do, if it were up to her. When they had supply chains set up properly, that was the plan. But now the priority was to keep what survivors there were, alive. So they set any Reaper-related debris down on Luna, where it couldn't do any more damage, until it could be dealt with.

_Luna_. Shepard shook her head. Where she'd first met EDI. She and the Normandy had been MIA since the Catalyst fired. They never appeared at the Alliance rendezvous. No one had seen or heard from the ship in six weeks.

Shepard pushed herself faster, hoping to outscream the pain in her heart with the pain in her legs and lungs.

That ship was her home.

That crew was her family.

She'd done it; she'd saved the goddamn galaxy. The earth was intact. Humanity was saved. It seemed infinitely unfair that they should win, that she should save them against all odds and still lose many of those closest to her.

She'd left them on the Normandy as they made the final ground push, so that they'd be _safe._

_What a joke._

It wasn't the first time Shepard had lost everything. Hell, it wasn't even the second.

_Third time's the charm, huh? Maybe next time the universe will let you keep what you've built._

_Or maybe not._

Commander Frieda Shepard was uniquely qualified to lead at the end of the world. Her world had ended 16 years ago. And again 8 years later.

When Mindoir fell to Batarian raiders, she'd been the only survivor of her colony. Her parents, friends, boyfriend… all dead. Along with thousands of others. She'd stopped using her first name after that. It was too painful to use the name she'd grown up with. Frieda died on that planet with everyone else.

She'd taken to going by her last name in an effort to emulate the Alliance military personnel who'd rescued her. Armed, trained military officers don't have to survive by hiding in a cattle barn to hide their heat signature. They survive by fighting back. The soldiers who'd rescued her had told her how smart that was. She hadn't cared at the time.

She'd enlisted on her eighteenth birthday, already having trained for two years, trying to be strong enough and fast enough to join the Alliance Navy. They'd been concerned about her psychological well-being, what with her keeping a shaved head and refusing to acknowledge her first name since the attack, but they gave her a chance and found her to be an exemplary soldier.

Then six years into her military career, her unit was hit by a thresher maw attack. Every single person died there that day. Everyone but her. The irony is that she survived once again by hiding. She'd found rocky ground and hid behind an outcropping of rock as the monstrous creature spat acid at her.

That unit had become her life. Her family.

They gave her a fucking promotion for surviving. And Shepard came to thrive on working alone. On not letting anyone in. On moving forward as her world crumbled.

She'd been the perfect leader, uniting the races to fight the Reaper threat. They'd held up long enough to build a giant machine that she still didn't understand, that had deactivated every electronic device in the galaxy.

Other electronics had started re-activating a few hours later. For some reason the Reapers did not.

Within a couple of weeks, even the Mass Relays were working again.

By the time Shepard had awoken from her coma, much of the world was the same as the last time she'd seen it. Which is to say _fucking destroyed, _but at least it was still _there._

Two weeks. She'd lain there for two weeks with tubes sticking out of her, broken and bleeding and just a hair's-breadth this side of death.

When she'd woken up, she was informed that it was Miranda that saved her life. Something to do with nano-bots that were specifically designed to work with her implants to reconstruct tissue and repair any damaged implants. The former Cerberus operative kept a stash of them for emergencies.

They'd found Shepard at the base of the beam. She never even made it off of Earth. She'd been shocked and confused to find that Anderson was still alive. She remembered watching him die.

The psychologists helped her reconcile her memory with reality. Sovereign had attempted a massive mind-fuck on Shepard as she lay dying. She still had no idea what purpose that would have served. And was damn glad she would never know the answer.

Anderson had made it to the beam, and fired the Catalyst from the Citadel. He said the Keepers helped him to reach the panel.

Weird.

The creepy little alien-bug-cyborgs were apparently hard at work rebuilding the Citadel. It was being restored faster than anything else in the galaxy. They still didn't seem particularly sentient, but they'd turned out to be very, very helpful.

And here Shepard was, running alone through the streets of Vancouver. She'd been sent there for recuperation after the doctors had cleared her to leave hospital in London. Much of the city aside from the skyscrapers was still intact and the Alliance had re-established a base here. Having been incarcerated here for six months, it was the closest to home she had left.

The doctors in Vancouver had only allowed her to run again starting this morning.

After six weeks of inactivity, she'd been ready to climb the walls.

She was pushing too hard. She knew that. Her doctors were going to be pissed. But it had been so long since she'd been planet-side long enough to actually go for a run. Besides, she had nothing better to do. Here she could work off the energy and emotion. She had no idea when they'd clear her for duty.

Or if.

She ached to have a gun in her hand. To throw up a singularity, wait for it to raise a few bad guys into the air, then 'pop' it with a warp field and send them all flying.

Not only had the Alliance _not _given her a gun, the doctors _still _hadn't given her biotic amp back. Fuckers. Some bullshit about overtaxing her implants before she was fully healed. She felt naked and defenseless without them. And angry.

She'd been fighting almost constantly for three years. Minus the six months in the clink. The only thing that had kept her sane during that time was her assigned smartass bodyguard-slash-jailer.

_Vega._

The insubordinate little shit. Well… big shit. His shoulders were almost as broad as she was tall. The man was a brick wall. Helluva tank, to boot. Great at running into the fray and distracting the enemy so she could pick them off from behind cover. They made a damn good team.

He'd been on the Normandy.

Bloody pissed that she hadn't taken him on the final ground run to the beam on Earth. But he'd been injured in fighting their way to the main base and he was liable to get himself killed. She'd ordered him to stay on the Normandy, then begged him to keep her people aboard safe.

She'd trusted him to do that, and he'd understood.

She wondered if he'd kept his promise.

Or if her crew was floating cold in space somewhere.

It was likely she'd never know. They were gone.

She'd never get to put their names up on the memorial board hanging on the crew deck of the Normandy. For some reason that really bothered her. If they fell in battle, their names should be there, next to Pressley, Williams, Solus, and so many more.

She'd never get to put Jack's name there. Jack that covered her insecurities with tattoos and profanity, the self-proclaimed 'Dangerous Biotic Bitch.' She'd given her life to save one of her students. They'd had the memorial while Shepard was still in a coma. She'd still taken the time to call Rodriguez after her release from hospital.

"_I'm so sorry, Commander," tears poured down the young woman's face as she spoke in the static-y video feed. "It's all my fault. She died because of me."_

"_That is the last time you say that," Shepard had replied harshly. "To me, or to yourself. Jack was a messed up, psychotic little girl in a woman's body when I met her. She wasn't much more than that when we parted ways after we took out the Collectors."_

_Rodriguez blinked, startled by the Commander's words._

"_But there at Grissom Academy, I got to see that messed up little girl as a respectable adult." Shepard shook her head with a wry grin. "I never in my wildest dreams expected that. She loved her students. She would have done anything for you. You saved her. If it weren't for you, she'd have died in a gutter somewhere of an overdose or worse in under two years. She gave her life for yours because she thought you were worth it." She paused, meeting the girl's eyes through the holo-feed. "So your job is to make damn sure you're worth it. You live, and live well, because she can't." _

It was a responsibility Shepard knew all too well. Hundreds of people had given their lives in some way so she could live. She'd taken the life they'd given her and saved billions.

It still didn't feel like enough.

It would never feel like enough.

Rodriguez had taken their brief conversation to heart; having begun the call with eyes rank with guilt, she'd finished it brimming with determination and purpose. She'd have a rough go of it for a while, but she'd be fine.

Jack's death was one of few that _didn't _weigh on Shepard's conscience. She knew it was her influence that altered the direction of the broken, angry woman's life. Jack had turned her life around and had gone down swinging protecting the people she loved. It was how she would have wanted it.

Hell, it was how Shepard would have wanted it for herself.

She'd thought she was dead. Again. When that awful little ghost-boy had given her the choice, she'd hesitated for a moment, but only a moment. For the barest hint of a second she'd forgotten what her only goal was for the past three years: destroy the Reapers. At any cost.

So she'd pulled her sidearm and blasted the fuck out of that pipe, convinced that she was destroying all electronics in the galaxy, the implants that helped sustain her life after she'd died included. She finished the job. Died a hero. Finally. In the end, that knowledge was a relief. She'd finally earned her rest.

And then the universe had decided to fuck her again.

She'd woken in pain with tubes and wires sticking out of her, keeping her alive. She was missing the skin on most of one leg and the opposite arm. Her face had fared little better. Broken right femur. Severe burns over 40% of her body.

_Miranda was standing over her when she opened her eyes, an impatient smile on her face. "Welcome back to the living, Shepard. Took you long enough," she'd said in her clipped Australian accent._

The woman had never been one for sentiment. Shepard got to find out slowly over the next weeks that once she'd been hit by the Reaper beam she was down for the count. If it weren't for her implants and the nano-bots, she'd have died for sure. As it was, the myriad 'improvements' Cerberus had made under Miranda's instruction after Shepard's first death had not only kept her alive, but were rapidly healing her burns and her broken leg. They'd released her from the infirmary only a week later.

It had felt like forever.

And now, three weeks after that her skin was almost completely healed. She wouldn't even have a scar. Her femur was whole and strong enough for her to run again.

So run she did. It was the first freedom she felt since the last time she'd held a gun.

Her footfalls echoed through the mostly-deserted, rubble-strewn streets of Vancouver. The Alliance had re-established a base down by the docks and moved the city's survivors into an area nearby, where the buildings were stable enough to house people and close enough together to get electricity and running water to as many as possible without straining the jury-rigged system.

Shepard's omni-tool pinged again. She ignored it for the third time in ten minutes. _I've been gone for all of half an hour. You can survive without me for another fifteen minutes._

She had two kilometers left to her run, and one more for the cool-down. After over a month of inactivity the last thing she wanted was leg cramps.

She slowed back to a leisurely pace, having taxed her body enough for this run. There would be time to push harder and farther when her body was more used to the movement.

This wasn't her first rodeo.

She heard it before she saw it: the whine of a ship's engine. She could tell from the sound it was too big to be a shuttle. It was odd that they'd bring a ship down to atmo. _Must be someone important._

It circled around over the ocean to land at the docks, dropping into sight through the cloud cover.

Shepard's heart dropped through her stomach.

She stopped cold.

She blinked, slowly, hard.

Sometimes when you want something so badly, you can convince yourself that it's real when it's not.

Her omni-tool pinged. She looked down at it, then back up at the sloped lines of the ship, the white-with-black-and-blue trim. _She really does look better in blue, _Shepard thought absently. She read the large black letters that graced the long curved body of the ship:

NORMANDY SR-2

She was home. She was intact.

Shepard broke into a full-out sprint.


	2. Chapter 2

Shepard was completely out of breath by the time she reached the first checkpoint a few minutes later.

It was a tall chain-link fence manned by two guards. Not much security by Alliance standards but holo-fencing was too much of a power-draw when there were other concerns. Besides, there usually wasn't anything nearly so valuable as a Cruiser parked inside.

The guard seemed determined to hassle her. He looked her up and down, taking in her black sports bra and matching shorts with distain. "This is a restricted area, Ma'am. You can either head back that way, or I can make you."

She looked back with equal distain. Normally she'd have given him a ten-minute undressing for that kind of insubordination. _I don't have time for this bullshit. _She tapped out a few keys on her omni-tool.

The man before her jumped as her name and rank appeared above her arm, complete with picture. He paled.

"That's _Commander _to you, Private. Now let me the fuck through. That's _my ship _that just landed in there."

He scanned the image in front of him for a moment longer. _Of course it would be Commander fucking Shepard. _He shook his head. He just hadn't recognised her in practically no clothes.

He punched in the code for the gate and snapped to attention. "Sorry, Commander. Just doing my job."

"Next time don't be an ass about it," she replied, stepping through the gate without a backwards glance.

She made quick work of the distance to the inner fence, having had the time to catch her breath as she argued with the jackass at the gate. This one was the same height, across a road. The fence line was at the very top of the hill and she could see the _Normandy _parked neatly on the tarmac just a half-kilometer away.

The guards there were much more personable. Both of them smiled as they recognised her, and the gate was open before she reached it. "Congratulations, Commander! It's good to see her in one piece," one called as she sprinted past.

The _Normandy_, and her Commander, were famous. It was one of the most recognisable ships in the galaxy. Certainly the most recognisable on Earth. That one small ship had done more to save them from the Reapers than the rest of the Alliance fleet combined.

And that was just the most recent of her feats.

Shepard slowed as she grew closer to the ship, still not believing what she saw. It was too good to be true.

She wanted to slap herself, sure it was a dream or hallucination. _I'm not this lucky._

The forward hatch opened. Shepard kept up her jog as she watched the first figure climb down from the ship.

She'd know that hunchbacked limp anywhere.

Still a couple hundred metres away, she stopped just long enough to shout, "Joker!" before turning the speed on again.

He paused, looking around. A crowd of a few dozen ground personnel had gathered a ways back. He scanned the crowd for the source. And then he saw it. Someone was hauling ass towards them. He felt a momentary pang. He would never be able to run like that. His fragile bones would break under the stress. _And that's just not fun for anyone. _His twisted sense of humor re-asserted itself in typical short order.

He couldn't quite tell who it was, but they were in one hell of a hurry to get here. He blinked. _No. It can't be. They announced she'd been hit before Hacket gave the evac order. She was dead. They'd even hung her name on the memorial wall._

To hell with brittle bones. He broke into a stuttering jog-run, the best he could manage on his weak legs. They both had tears streaming down their faces by the time they reached each other.

They didn't even bother a greeting before throwing their arms around each other. They'd both been a part of this since the very beginning. Day one. Never in either of their wildest dreams did they expect to both be alive here, at the end.

"Um, Shepard? Could you ease up before you break me?" Jeff Moreau, ship's pilot, better-known as Joker teased, half-serious.

She let up on the pressure, but held on.

"Shepard?" she heard a choked voice from behind her. She barely had the chance to let go of Joker before she found herself crushed against a hard chest.

She knew this body, and with a lot fewer clothes. "Good to see you alive, too, Kaidan." She felt him take a deep, shuddering breath before releasing her.

"I think there's a lineup," he said with a fond smile and the sheen of unshed tears as he grabbed her shoulders and turned her around.

She was tackled by both Tali and Liara at once. It seemed everyone was crying, what with the moisture flowing down Liara's blue cheeks and the telltale shudder of Tali's body against her. Shepard couldn't see through the purple tint of Tali's mask, but her emotional state was pretty obvious, nonetheless.

Traynor, Adams, Daniel and Donnely followed. Samantha had no qualms about putting her arms around the Commander, but the three engineers hesitated. Right up until Shepard pulled each of them in. "You guys are my crew, and I'm damn glad you're alive."

An openly-crying Shepard was a rare sight, indeed.

It was certainly something no-one there had ever witnessed. Shepard could give a flying fuck what anyone thought. After everything she'd been through, she was bloody entitled. She looked around, catching the pinched look of Joker's mouth, the worry lines around his eyes.

She met his gaze. "EDI?" she asked gently.

He shook his head. "All her systems crashed, mid-FTL jump. That's why we never made the rendezvous. I had to set the _Normandy_ down planet-side until we could jury-rig enough to get her home."

"You did good, Joker." She rested a hand on his shoulder. "And we will do _everything_ in our power to get her back. If it's possible, we'll do it. No matter what. You have my word."

He released all the air in his lungs with a relieved _whoosh_. "Thanks, Commander. You have no idea what that means."

"It's Shepard, and I'm pretty sure I know exactly what she means to you. She's crew. She saved all our lives too many times to count and I won't leave her behind. I'll have Tali ask the Geth if they're willing to send someone. If anyone can help, it's them."

He nodded.

Shepard looked around. _There's someone missing. _Her gaze passed over the crew members who had gathered on the ground outside the ship. Her heart sank as she realised who it was. "Where's Vega?" she asked softly, barely able to get the words past the lump in her throat.

Kaidan piped up from behind her, "He's fine. He's in the cargo bay. I think he just wanted a couple of minutes to himself."

She glanced over her shoulder and he gave her a sad smile, heavy with what could have been. "Go tell him the good news, Commander."

She swallowed, steeling herself as she headed around the backside of the ship to the cargo bay doors. Joker must have opened them before debarking. She could see inside to where James stood at his usual bench. She recognised her own armor. He was arranging the pieces carefully on the table before him.

She walked up the ramp and into the hold, stopping a few feet back. He didn't turn to greet her. "Can I just have a couple minutes," he asked. "Just two more minutes to pretend she's alive?" He traced the N7 on the chest piece with two fingers. "Just give me that much." His shoulders fell.

Shepard grinned, crossing her arms and leaning against a crate. "Take all the time you need," she replied.

It took a couple of seconds to sink in. She watched as he froze. His knuckles turned white as he grabbed the edge of the workbench, releasing slowly as he turned. His eyes widened and he looked her up and down. "Shepard, you're…"

"I could say the same for you," she replied, grin widening as she allowed herself to be crushed by the ambulatory mountain of muscle.

His arms squeezed so tight she thought she was going to pop a rib. Then she almost fell over as she was released unexpectedly. Vega rubbed his hands on his pants self-consciously as he tried to look anywhere but at her exposed skin. Due to her tiny running shorts and sports bra, there was a lot of it, and he'd just been touching some of it unawares.

Recovering quickly from his discomfort, he asked, "Holy shit, Lola. How did you…?"

"Honestly? I have no idea. I think it was a combination of luck, Cerberus cheating, and I'm starting to have suspicions I'm part cat."

He nodded. "That would make a great deal of sense."

"C'mon," she invited. "Join the celebration outside."

"Hell, yeah." Words could not convey how happy he was to see her alive. It was a goddamn miracle. "Um, we all thought you were dead."

"Based on all the crying, I gathered as much. I thought the same for all of you."

He nodded. "That would explain your reaction. I don't recall ever being hugged by you."

"Hey, everybody else got one. I didn't want you to feel left out. Besides, I'm pretty sure _you _hugged _me_."

"Psssh," he replied dismissively. "Hey, I guess we're going to have to take your name off the board upstairs."

She stopped, glancing up. "No. Leave it. I died with the SR-1. My name belongs up there, regardless of whether I'm still walking around or not." She began moving again, stepping out into the sunshine where her crew had gathered.

James stopped, clenching his fist as the realisation crashed down on him. _Shepard was not okay. _And he had no fucking clue what to do about it. She spoke like she was still dead. Like she thought she should stay that way.

Shepard blinked as she stepped back out in the overcast light that passed for sun in Vancouver. To a man, everyone was celebrating. For the Commander, it hadn't felt like a victory without the Normandy. For her crew, they really had no clue whether they'd won or not until the last few hours. And everyone had thought Shepard perished in the final assault.

Today was a good day.

They were funneled into a nearby building to wait for debriefing. Food was set out in a large conference room. Shepard had to intervene when Joker refused to leave the ship, leave EDI. Since no one was prepared for maintenance anyway, the ground staff agreed to let her seal the ship up until Anderson arrived and gave the go-ahead.

They sat around the table and swapped stories of everything that had gone down between the final attack and now. The crew that had been with the Normandy while she was a Cerberus ship were all deeply saddened by the news that Jack hadn't made it. Shockingly enough, everyone else had.

They'd faced the end of the world and come out the other side smiling. For now, at least. There'd be plenty to mourn later.

Anderson arrived about an hour after the _Normandy_ made her landing. He came into the room, instructed everyone to remain at ease, and addressed the entire assembled crew.

"First of all, I want to congratulate you all on your return. We feared the worst when you didn't make the rendezvous. I will need to debrief you each individually as to what happened over the last six weeks, but that is a formality. We're working on securing quarters for you so you'll have real beds to sleep in and we do have limited running water." He cleared his throat and stood a little straighter. "Thank-you. Each and every one of you. The _Normandy _and her crew were pivotal in the fight against the Reapers. None of us would be here today if it weren't for your effort, and your sacrifice. Welcome home. Thanks to you, we have one."

A cheer went up in the room. "You'll be called individually to meet with me over the next few hours. I hope not to take too much of your time. But you can relax, eat, even take a nap while you wait." Anderson smiled faintly. Shepard had the feeling it would be a long afternoon for the Admiral. "Shepard has spent the last three weeks tracking down and contacting as many of your relatives as she could. You can take this time to ask her, and since her omni-tool is connected to our rudimentary extranet services, you can send a short message to your loved-ones while you wait." He exited the room.

Shepard was hit by a barrage of questions. She held a hand up and pointed across the table to Engineer Adams. "You start, and we'll just go around the table that way," she gestured clockwise. "That way everyone gets a turn and no one has to get up. I'll come around."

It was a long afternoon for Shepard too. She'd diligently researched her crew and painstakingly contacted their next of kin, informing them that the ship had been lost but there was still hope. It was nice knowing all those people would be getting good news.

But not all the news was good on this end. In her search, she had encountered stories of loved ones who hadn't made it. Or worse, no evidence that the people she sought existed. The smiles and joy that came from sending a few-sentence confirmation of life were tempered with the sobbing heartbreak that accompanied knowing the people you love and fear for are gone.

It was an emotional day that would leave Shepard utterly exhausted in its wake.

Two shining points stood out though: getting to tell Kaidan that his mother was alive on their farm in Kelowna, and telling James that his uncle was still alive, and she'd actually video-chatted with him.

"Really, Lola?" he asked, using the nickname he'd given her.

Emilio would be over the moon when he found out 'his boy' was alive and kicking. In the three weeks they'd been in contact, the man hadn't lost hope. He hadn't believed for one moment that James wasn't alive.

Man was he going to gloat about that.

The room slowly emptied, and quieted as the afternoon wore on. The emotional strain of the last few weeks, not to mention the day, had caught up with a few who were napping on the floor in empty corners. Shepard refused to leave until every last crew member had been debriefed. As the last person was called, Samantha Traynor, as it happened, she said her last good-bye and headed back to her quarters to shower and change. It was starting to get chilly and she wasn't wearing much.

"Have a seat, Lieutenant. After all you've been through there's no need to stand on ceremony."

The room was small and sparsely furnished; the chair Anderson sat in, a small desk, and the empty chair the Admiral gestured to. Anderson had a pad of paper in front of him and there was a recording device in one upper corner of the room.

"Thank-you, sir." James sat.

"I don't plan on taking much of your time. But when a ship goes missing for six weeks there's protocol and procedure and red tape and reams of paperwork." Anderson smiled wryly.

"Don't I know it, sir," James agreed.

They went over the time the _Normandy _had been missing. James' account matched that of the rest of the crew. There was little for the Alliance to be concerned about; the ship had been damaged and it took time to repair it. The entire crew returned in good health. Anderson was true to his word; it was a short conversation.

"Is there anything you'd like to add, Lieutenant Vega?"

James opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again. Then closed it, grinding his teeth and shaking his head.

"Seems you have something to say, James. Out with it." Anderson had worked closely with Vega in the past. It was he who assigned James as Shepard's shadow while she'd been on lockdown. So he had no qualms addressing the man informally now.

James glanced up at the camera. "Off the record, sir?"

Anderson brought up his omni-tool and pressed a few buttons. The hovering camera made a whirring sound as it came to rest on the desk, and its lights blinked out. He made a show of turning the camera eye to face a blank wall. "Go ahead."

James took a deep breath and let it out with a whoosh. "It's Shepard. I'm worried about her."

Admiral David Anderson sat up straighter in his chair. "What about?" he asked in a neutral tone.

"I… just… it's a feeling. We thought she was dead, so we hung her name on the memorial wall in the Normandy. She told me not to bother taking it down. I don't think she plans on living very long." James' green-brown eyes met the Admiral's gaze unwaveringly. "I mean, I don't think she's going to try to off herself, but if you put her in a combat situation she's going to take more and more risks until someone gets a lucky shot in."

"That's a very bold statement to be making about a woman who's widely considered to be the biggest hero in the goddamn galaxy. Care to recant it?" Anderson replied, voice deadly calm.

James cleared his throat and stood up. "No, sir." He stood with his feet shoulder-width apart, square and straight with his hands behind his back and his gaze on the back wall.

Anderson stood in place, understanding full-well that James' posture was in anticipation of a dressing-down. He didn't disappoint.

"Do you think you have either the qualifications or the _intelligence _to be making such a statement?" His voice ratcheted up a couple of notches.

"Yes-and-no, sir!"

"Well which is it?"

James risked meeting the Admiral's eyes. He _was_ still technically at ease. "You assigned me to her for a reason. We saw each other almost every day for six months. And when it all went to hell and the Reapers showed up, we went into battle together countless times. We had each other's backs the entire time."

"And..?"

James' massive shoulders slumped. "I can't really describe it. She was so intent on winning, on beating the Reapers, but I could never shake the feeling that she didn't expect to survive the fight. And worse, that she looked forward to the day she didn't have to anymore."

"We all looked forward to the end of the war."

"As long as Shepard is alive she'll never stop fighting, whether it's Reapers or Batarians or whatever the hell you point her at next. She doesn't feel alive without a gun in her hand. The day she stops fighting is the day we lay her in the ground." James' voice grew hoarse as he finished. He closed his eyes for a moment. "It's the look in her eyes, sir. She was so happy to see us she _cried_. She's never shown vulnerability like that in front of her crew. _Never. _And later, she looked happy, but tired. And lost. Through everything that's happened over the last year, she's always been so determined. That's gone now, and it's like there's this empty husk walking around where the Commander used to be."

"Did you think you could just come in here and slander the good name of a dedicated soldier and decorated war hero?"

"No, sir."

"You know just saying this could be the end of your up-till-now promising career? I should put you on guard detail for some goddamn _politician _for this."

"Yes, sir."

"Then what possessed you to say it?" Anderson studied the young man's scarred face closely. The next words out of his mouth could determine the course of the entire rest of his life.

"Because an hour ago she told me her name belonged on that board in the crew deck that lists the _Normandy's _casualties. And I would do _anything _to keep her from joining them permanently."

"Shepard's life is more important than your career, your reputation?"

James' chin raised a notch. He stared down his superior officer belligerently. "Damn straight."

"Good."

"I…what?" James blinked, unsure when this conversation had gotten away from him.

"None of what you just said comes as any surprise to me. Except for the fact that you had the balls to come to me with it, that is. I underestimated you."

James sat back down.

Anderson did likewise. "Shepard has been to hell and back over the last few years. First human Spectre. Mutiny. Saving the Citadel. Dying and coming back two years later. Working for Cerberus, and being branded a traitor and a terrorist. Destroying the Collectors. Destroying the Alpha relay and with it over three hundred thousand Batarian civilians. Being all but declared a war criminal. And then the Reapers showing up. There's a reason I chose _you_ to guard her after she turned herself in."

"_Me?_" he pointed at his chest incredulously.

"Yes, Vega. You. You lost faith in yourself and the Alliance. You needed someone to believe in. She lost everything: her ship, her rank, her reputation. Hell, we took her guns away. For her that's the equivalent of amputating an arm."

"Tell me about it. I was the one she got to bitch to about that. Got a fucking earful every other day. And because she wasn't allowed a gun, neither was I. The brass was too afraid she'd take it away from me."

"With good reason, believe me. That woman is a force of nature when she gets an idea in her head." His mouth twisted wryly. "She's been like that for as long as I've known her. Do you know how long she's had her hair short like that?" He spoke of her ever-unchanging, close-to-the-scalp buzz cut.

James shook his head.

"I led the squad that found her on Mindoir. Hiding in a barn with a bunch of cows, of all things. The day after we picked her up, on our way to drop her off at another colony she stole a pair of clippers and cut all her hair off. It was about this long, before." Anderson made a slashing motion by his hip. "So she cut her hair, and she insisted that everyone call her 'Shepard' from that day on. She's refused to go by Frieda ever since. You see, after she survived by hiding on Mindoir, she decided she was going to be strong. She was going to be a Marine in the Alliance. She made her mind up that day, and never looked back."

James nodded, grinning. "Yeah, sounds like my Lola."

Anderson raised an eyebrow at the nickname. James shrugged, but the pink that stained the bridge of his nose gave him away. "As I was saying," the Admiral continued, "you needed someone to believe in. Shepard needed someone to believe in her. You called her 'Commander' after she was stripped of rank. Treated her with the deference she'd earned despite the fact that no one else did. As much as you needed someone, so did she. Your faith kept her from giving up hope. So if you come in this room and tell me you think she's in trouble, I believe you. You've earned it."

"Thank-you, sir. I didn't know how I was going to be received. I expected you to demote me and toss me out of this office."

"I had to test your resolve. If we're going to help Shepard, you need to be completely on-board."

"Utterly, sir. I would die for her."

"I doubt that will be necessary, but know this: she will not like us tampering. When this is done she may never speak to you again."

"If it keeps her from giving up, it's a risk I'll gladly take. I'd rather have her alive and hating me than the alternative."

"Good. I still have to debrief the rest of the crew. Meet me here," he scrawled directions on a piece of paper and slid it across the desk to the Lieutenant, "at nineteen hundred. We'll discuss a course of action."

James took a quick look at the note before tucking it into his pants pocket. "I'll be there."


	3. Chapter 3

Shepard set down her duffle with a sigh. She stared up at the hotel that would be her home for the foreseeable future before hefting the bag over her shoulder and heading in the front door. A woman in her mid-thirties sat behind the desk in the lobby.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked, polite but wary.

"Yes. Shepard. I was told to report here to help out with the reclamation efforts."

"Oh! Yes!" The woman blushed. "I was told to expect you. Sorry I didn't recognise you out of uniform. You're wearing a uniform or armor in all the pictures. Let me grab your key and I'll show you your room."

Shepard followed the woman down the hallway. "We do have power here but we're trying to conserve so please use the stairs as much as possible. I imagine four flights won't be a problem for you," the woman said as she opened the door to the staircase.

"No problem at all," she replied.

"Oh, I'm Lucy, by the way. Should I call you Commander or…"

"Shepard is fine," she said with a warm smile. "Nice to meet you, Lucy."

"Oh, the pleasure is mine," the woman babbled as she jogged up the stairs. "You're famous. A hero. It's an honor to get to work alongside someone who's done so much for humanity."

"I didn't just do it for humanity. Turians, Asari, Quarian, Salarian, Krogan, even Batarian and Geth," Shepard corrected. "We're not alone in the galaxy and the other races were vital in the push to take back Earth. If it weren't for them, none of us would be here."

Lucy bit her lip, pausing mid-step. "I suppose. I never really thought about it that way. I've never been off-planet, and I've only seen a few aliens from far away."

"Aliens are people too. Just like us. Some of my best friends are aliens. A couple of them are even Synthetics. They might not look like us, but often the other species are very, very human." Shepard smiled to her guide. "Once you get used to their quirks, you stop even noticing the differences."

Lucy sighed wistfully and resumed her climb. "I don't know if I'll ever get the chance to even meet one."

"Well if any of my old crewmates are ever in the neighborhood, I'll be sure to introduce you."

"Really?" Lucy's dark brown eyes shone. "You would do that for me?"

"Most of them are back on their homeworlds helping with the rebuild there but if any come by, I'll let you know."

"Oh, thank-you!" She glanced sidelong at the Commander. "I expected you to be meaner, more antisocial."

Shepard laughed. "I know how to make nice with the civvies," she teased. "As long as your behavior doesn't put anyone in danger, we'll get along fine."

"Do a lot of the civilians you meet put people in danger?" she asked over her shoulder as she opened a storage room and retrieved some bedding.

"You'd be shocked how many."

"Well I promise to do my best not to join that list."

"Much obliged," Shepard replied wryly.

"Here we are, 407." Lucy opened the door with an old-fashioned metal key, then handed the key to Shepard. "They put in the old-style locks to conserve energy. We have spares behind the desk but try not to lose yours."

Shepard looked around her new quarters. Private bathroom with shower in the tub. Closet by the entry door. Queen-sized bed and six-drawer dresser in the main room. It was more than adequate. She took the bedding from Lucy and set it on the bed. "How many am I rooming with?"

Lucy looked taken aback. "None. This room is yours. Just yours."

Shepard's eyes narrowed. "How many people to a room in the others?"

Lucy looked down at her feet, scuffing one into the carpet. "Depending on the size of the rooms, anywhere from four to eight."

"You couldn't find anyone brave enough to bunk with me?"

"No, it's not that. We just wanted you to be comfortable and have some privacy. It's the least we could do."

_Damn. How am I supposed to turn it down when they put it like that?_

"It's great. Thank-you."

Lucy huffed out a relieved sigh. "I'll leave you to get settled in."

"No need. Give me a minute to make the bed and I'll be right down. I'd like to get to work."

"Great. I'll head back down to the lobby. You can find me there whenever you're ready."

Shepard made the bed, sure that she'd be exhausted by this evening and ready to fall into it by the time she got back, and pulled her clothes out of her bag and set them in the dresser. She was done in under five minutes, and back in the lobby shortly thereafter.

"I called for a transport to take you to the building they're working on now. It's only a couple of blocks away but Terry will need to give you a quick rundown on protocol and policy anyway so might as well let him come get you. I'm sort of pseudo-security here today so I can't take you myself," she added apologetically.

"How long until he arrives?"

"Just a few minutes. I think he's excited to meet you."

_That's going to get old quick._

"Don't worry. The novelty will wear off after a couple of days and then you'll be just another volunteer."

Shepard blinked, shocked at the woman's perception.

Lucy smiled. "Sometimes you just want to be treated like a normal person, huh?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"That's one of the reasons we put you on the fourth floor. The first two and a half are civilian families. They'll get moved out as we make more buildings livable and get power and water going again. The rest is for volunteers like you and me, helping search and restore and clean buildings. You'll get less traffic and less harassment on the top floor. Let me know if anyone gets obnoxious. You're here to work and I'd hate for that to make you miserable."

"Thank-you," Shepard replied, meaning it.

"No problem at all." Lucy glanced out the front windows. "Looks like Terry's here. I'll see you later."

"It was nice meeting you," Shepard said, holding out her hand.

"The pleasure was all mine," Lucy replied as she shook hands with the Commander.

Shepard walked out the front door into the murky Vancouver sunshine with a smile on her face.

Terry was behind the wheel of a wheeled ground transport. They were rare to see these days but for short distance travel they were just more convenient, so since the end of the Reaper war there were more of them out and about.

"Hey, Commander!" the man greeted her warmly, smile lighting up his face. He looked to be in his late forties or so but a lifetime of sun exposure and smiling left premature lines around his eyes and mouth. His blonde hair was pulled back into a braid that reached halfway down his back. "Hop in. I'll fill you in on the way there."

She opened the door and climbed into the passenger seat. "I'm Terry. I'm a structural engineer and technically the foreman of Crew 3," he said as he put the truck in gear.

"Are there others like it?" Shepard asked.

"Three others in Vancouver alone. There are dozens all over the world, in big cities trying to get power and clean water to as many people as possible. Before the Reapers arrived, the population of Earth was just under eleven-and-a-half billion. Best estimate now puts us at around one billion. That means there's lots of resources out there, but not nearly enough people to man them. It also means we need to keep people as close as possible in the cities. So we're going through any uninhabited spaces, from office buildings to apartments to houses. Anything that's empty we go through from top to bottom, clean out everything and catalogue and store the useful stuff, make any repairs, and get power and water back up. Any building that I deem unsound gets demo'd. It's not safe to leave them standing. It's too much of a risk that someone will decide to go scavenging. That means we lose a lot of those resources, but we have to be concerned about the safety of the citizens and the long-term viability of the city."

Shepard stared out the window as he talked, nodding at appropriate times. What he was saying was nothing she hadn't heard. Hell, she could _see _most of it out the window. All of the tallest buildings were gone. Some of the smaller ones had damage but were still standing.

"Most of the damage to the stable ones is to the glass on the outside. It's an issue to repair; manufacturing is time-and-power-consuming," he continued. "We're finding ways to make them safe for now in the hopes that later on we can come back and fix 'em right." He glanced over at Shepard. "You getting this?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Just processing. I assume you mean that you're welding on panels where you need to and barricading windows that can't be replaced right away."

He nodded. "Pretty much." Appeased that she seemed to actually be listening, he continued.

"Our group is about a hundred people. Got some plumbers, electricians, then some strong bodies for the heavy lifting. You'll be with them. A few people for pure organisation. And the largest group is the cleaners. Rough job, that one. Old food, the occasional dead pet. Garbage that's been sitting there for months." He shook his head. "Some of it ain't pretty."

"Didn't expect it to be," she responded.

"I bet you've seen plenty ugly in your line of work," he said sympathetically.

Shepard's mouth formed a hard line and she nodded. "The Admiral thought I could benefit from building something for a change. I've gotten really good at demolition." She turned a wicked grin on Terry, all but stealing his breath with the intensity of it. He could see why so many idolised her. When she wanted to, she all but radiated charisma.

"Well you should see plenty of both. I see where your Admiral comes from though. There's nothing in the world quite like looking at your hard work and knowing that the results would stand long after you're dead."

Shepard's broad grin shrunk to a little nostalgic upturn at the corner of her mouth. "Rannoch," she whispered.

"What's that?" he asked, not sure he'd heard right.

"The Quarian homeworld. Their entire race has wandered the galaxy, homeless, for centuries. Now they've reclaimed their homeworld. They'll be able to walk around and breathe the air without exo-suits. They'll be able to touch each other, and see each other's smiles. I helped do that. I helped cure the Krogan genophage. That might bite this galaxy in the ass later, but for now, it means an entire race gets to have babies again. Every once in a while, I get lucky and get to build up more than I destroy. I guess Anderson is right. I do need this."

"Well regardless of the reason, we're damn glad to have you. My volunteers get to work alongside the Hero of the Citadel…" Shepard bit back a groan. She _hated _being famous. "… and I get a strong biotic to help with the heavy lifting. Everybody wins." He gave her a smile that must have had the ladies lining up in his heyday. Hell, they might still line up, for that matter.

He pulled the truck in next to a six-storey building. To an outside observer it looked like an anthill someone had kicked. Men and women carried furniture and wreckage out into a wide open area in the street. Garbage went in to the huge bins at one end, and potentially useful goods went to the other, stacked up in areas for clothes, furniture, and food, as well as a large pile that seemed to simply be 'other stuff". The main doors of the building were propped open and people bustled in and out. There was a line of portable toilets to the left of the door, and a large mobile food preparation truck to the right.

"Meals are at set times, based on shift. I'll make sure we have plenty for you to keep fueled up on as you go, and you'll have access any time you need it. I trust you not to abuse that."

"No, sir. I've been on rations for half of my life. I'll be sure to get enough food to keep my energy up, but I don't have the time to curry favors or set up a black-market on the side."

"That's what I figured. Now let's get you out there and working."

"How long have you guys been at this?" Shepard asked as they made their way past the building. Terry got a few smiles and nods. Shepard got some stares, but most were too busy with their tasks to make much notice of the average-looking woman in nondescript clothes following their leader.

"Two weeks after the Reapers all keeled over, may they roast in hell, I was approached by the Alliance brass. We got together some volunteers over the two weeks after that. With the promise of a roof, clean water and regular meals, it wasn't hard to find people. We got started about a month after the war ended. So we've been going strong for a month or so. We've had a steady stream of new blood along the way so there's pretty much twice the people now, but we've gotten more organised as we've gone so it's working out well. This is our sixth building," he added proudly as he led her up the street past the dumpsters. "There's been a few inhabitants left, but we aren't interested in displacing anyone who has a legitimate claim. When they realise we're getting their power and water back, they're usually glad to help out any way they can. And more and more people approach us looking for safe housing as we go. So we aren't really making any headway in that sense, but we are doing some good."

He led her to a dozen men who were lifting debris from the street and hefting it into a massive bin nearby. "The biggest stuff we'll need you to move is at street level. We need to clear this to make it safe for people to walk the streets again. Most of the city is impassable to ground vehicles and the shuttles take too much power. You need to pick up the crap that fell from buildings or ships. The big equipment will make their pass first through any street you clear, but the smaller stuff they leave behind still needs to be removed. You'll get to move the biggest stuff."

"Oooh, goody," Shepard deadpanned.

"That's the price for you being the only biotic we've got. Don't worry. We'll pay you in food and adoration."

Shepard gave the back of his head a dirty look as he approached the men. "This is Shepard. She's a biotic, so she can handle the bigger stuff. We need you all healthy so don't overstress yourself if you don't have to."

Shepard gave a half-hearted wave. One of the men eyed her critically and proclaimed, "Good. We've got a panel from a ship we can't move. Let's see what you've got, girl."

"I'll tell you what," she responded with a hand on her hip and a level glare. "I move that piece and you never call me 'girl' again. Agreed?"

"Sounds fair," he replied good-naturedly. "It's over here."

The thick panelling was about nine feet long by three feet wide. It had been the outer plating for something. Shepard deliberately didn't think of what it could have been. It looked to weigh about eight hundred pounds.

"It's not going to be easy but I think I can handle it. Clear a path to the bin for me?" she asked as her hands started to glow blue.

"You got it, Commander." He gestured to everyone to give her plenty of room, and they obliged without arguing. None of them quite trusted her not to drop it on them.

She took a deep breath, bending her knees as though she was lifting with her arms rather than her will, and drew her arms out to the side. She lifted them slowly and the panel came up with them, bathed in a blue nimbus. She raised it up a few feet, just high enough to see under it, and started it towards the giant garbage bin. She kept the sheet to a walking pace, knowing that she was fully capable of moving faster, but not wanting to startle the men who watched raptly from either side of the street.

Sweat beaded at her temples and the prickling sensation of biotic energy crept over her skin. She could feel the amp at the back of her neck working in concert with her innate biotic abilities, like a cool rush over her brain. She lifted the panel higher to clear the edge of the disposal bin, and lowered it down gently inside. Releasing the biotic hold, she took a deep breath. While the physical exertion was nothing like heavy lifting, the fatigue that hit her afterward felt no different.

The men grinned and clapped each other on the back. "Can we keep her?" the one who'd called her 'girl' asked Terry.

"She's with your crew, so yes. If I were you I'd save her for the really big stuff. Should save you a lot of time having to call in equipment."

"Yeah, I'll say," added another.

"Can you guys handle this from here?" Terry mad a circling motion with his finger.

"Yeah, boss. We'll be nice to the new lady," a guy in the back joked.

"You good?" he asked Shepard.

"I think I'll be fine here," she said with a smile.

"Well if you need me for anything ask the people in sorting. They can always get hold of me."

"Thanks," she replied.

Terry headed back towards the building and Shepard got to work.

It was a long day and as predicted, Shepard was exhausted by the end. The men seemed to accept her after that initial show, and none of them stooped to the kind of posturing she'd grown accustomed to seeing when men got together. They all worked well as a team. It was a relief to step into a grunt job and not have to wrangle her crew into shape. She'd forgotten what that was like. Shepard had grown so accustomed to being the leader she barely remembered how to follow.

She was informed as they wrapped up for the day and headed to the chow trailer that there was a second heavy lifting (or 'grunt' as Shepard thought of them) squad that were working moving furniture inside the building. They rotated people between the two crews to give them some variety and ensure that the bad outdoor weather was inflicted on each of them equally.

In Vancouver, any day it didn't rain was a good one. Shepard had managed to have her first day on one of those rare occasions. She was told to beg, borrow or steal rain gear.

Oddly enough, that was one of the few things she didn't possess. She'd have to ask Terry about it later.

The men wiped sweat from their foreheads, leaving dirt streaks behind, and dragged their feet as they headed for supper. They'd be one of the last crews to finish and eat because they could see for the longest. It got dark inside the buildings quickly and there was only so much emergency lighting they could use before they got power up in the building.

"How long do they think it will take to get the power going?" Shepard asked one man, a tall Viking with an easy smile and a wicked sense of humor.

"I think tomorrow or the next day. Then they'll split the crews into shifts so we can work longer hours. Three spreads us too thin, leads to burnout, so we do an early daytime shift and a late one. There's only one shift for us outside grunts, though, so you'll probably be on the daylight shift. Sorry to say but with your lifting ability you'll likely get stuck out there."

"Hey the only time I ever get to be outside is if I'm dodging bullets. This is a vacation."

"Keep up that attitude and you'll do just fine." He clapped her on the back and got in line for supper.

She ate quickly, joining in a bit of the banter she heard around the folding tables set up in front of the food trailer, but headed to her rack early. She wasn't quite used to this exertion yet and she was getting a headache from pushing her biotics too much. She knew better. They'd only given her amp back that morning.

There was a schedule for showering based on room number. She wouldn't be up for another three days. No matter. She'd lived through far worse. Being the only sweaty body to stink up the room helped, though. She pulled off her clothes and tossed them in a corner, putting on shorts and a muscle shirt to sleep in. Pulling her amp out, she set it on the table next to the bed. It felt wrong not to have a pistol sitting next to it, but there wasn't much use bitching.

Shepard climbed between the sheets and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

She woke the next morning after the rare treat of a nightmare-free night. She blinked up at the ceiling, momentarily disoriented, but it only took a moment to remember where she was. She got out of bed and used the washroom, splashing water on her face and over her scalp before getting dressed. She made her bed before leaving the room.

It was still oh-seven-hundred, so she made her way down the still-empty hallway and down the stairs. An unfamiliar man was behind the desk. He waved her over.

"What are you up to at this time of morning?" his voice rumbled as he spoke.

"Thought I'd go for a run, check out the streets closest to here and get my bearings."

"That's not exactly safe, Ma'am. There's still unsavory types around, not to mention some pretty vicious packs of dogs."

She tilted her head away from the man and pointed to the back of her neck. "I can handle myself pretty well."

Noticing her amp, he broke into a grin and held out his hand. "You must be Commander Shepard. It's an honor to work alongside you."

She shook the offered hand and returned the smile. "The honor's mine. You guys are doing good work here. I'm glad to be a part of it."

The dark-skinned man's chocolate-brown eyes flashed pain, then sympathy. "It's good to be building up after watching so much fall."

She nodded. "My thoughts exactly."

"I'm going to trust that you can take care of yourself. Try to stick to the cleared roads and don't wander too far. If you have an omni-tool you might want it set to identify you to any military patrols, just to save you any hassle."

"That's a good idea, thanks. I'll only be gone half an hour." She pulled up the orange holographic projection that illuminated around her left forearm and tapped out the order to broadcast her location and ID to local Alliance channels.

"We'll see you then. Enjoy your walk, Commander."

"It's 'run', and thank you." She went out the door.

The city was shrouded in a heavy fog that made visibility practically non-existent and stuck to her skin, quickly soaking her clothes. She only made it a couple of blocks before deciding to turn back. She couldn't scout much in this and it was foolhardy to be out alone when she couldn't see potential threats.

"Back so soon?" the man asked as she came back through the door.

"I forgot how wet the weather is here. I'll have to hold off on scouting the area until we get a clearer day."

"Well, good luck with that," he replied skeptically.

Shepard went back up to her apartment to change into dry clothes before breakfast.

She changed quickly and was one of the first to sit down in front of the former hotel for breakfast. Halfway through her meal and well-content to be a silent island amidst the pleasant drone of conversation, she was surprised when someone addressed her directly.

"This seat taken?"

Wait a minute… she _knew _that voice.

She glanced over her shoulder to be sure.

Yup. Shoulders like a mountain. Wide, short mohawk. Scarred face. Tattoos peering out from his t-shirt at the neck and bicep. "Vega. What the hell are you doing here?"

"I'll take that as a no," he said with a grin, and set his food down next to her.

"You didn't answer my question," she replied, eyes narrowed.

He shrugged as he started in on his meal. If you could really call the sludge they were feeding them a meal. "Anderson gave me the choice of going back into combat right away, or this."

Shepard gaped at him, spoon hanging forgotten halfway to her mouth. "And you chose _this_?" She seemed to realise they'd drawn attention. "No offense, guys," she addressed the rest of the table. "When you're in the military, you _live _for combat. You get a choice between fighting and not fighting, you choose to fight."

"Not always," James countered softly. "The last few months have been pretty intense. I just needed a break from the balls-to-the-wall, life in danger all the time thing. You know?"

Shepard stared at him with wide eyes and shook her head.

"You honestly don't understand what it's like to need a break once in a while."

"Nope," she confirmed as she resumed eating.

"Damn, Lola. You're even more hardcore than I thought."

The woman to Shepard's right leaned around her. "Lola?" she asked incredulously. "So, what? Is James here your boyfriend or something?"

Shepard shook her head, smiling. "No. Just a very good friend. For the record, he's the _only_ one allowed to call me that." She felt the rumble of his chuckle where their arms rested against each other.

She elbowed him. "If the boys start calling me Lola, I'm holding you personally responsible."

He stopped chuckling.

"So, James," Shepard changed the subject, "what crew are you working for?"

"I would assume the same one as you, Lola."

"You're assigned here as grunt muscle too?"

"_Si_."

"How come I didn't see you yesterday?"

"It was my day to work inside. Moving furniture around. Dark and boring, but dry."

"That 'dry' part I'm starting to think I'll never know." Shepard sighed.

"Yeah, biotic abilities would be kind of wasted in close quarters like that."

"I didn't spend much time outdoors the last time I was here. I didn't get to experience the weather much. I'll have to ask if I can get ahold of a hat and a raincoat."

"It's a good idea. Check with Terry and see if he can put in a requisition with the sorters."

"I'll do that."

James stood up. "I need to grab some gear from my room. I'll see you out there."

"You working clearing the street today?"

"Yup. It'll be just like old times."

"Hopefully with fewer guns," Shepard replied dryly.

James just grinned and headed in.


	4. Chapter 4

It was all a little too convenient. Shepard knew why _she_ was assigned here, but she didn't quite trust James' motivation. It wouldn't be the first time Anderson had paired the two of them together. Still, if the Admiral wanted to keep someone Shepard trusted close, he really couldn't have chosen a better person.

Well, Tali may have been preferred, but she was already back on Rannoch.

Shepard smiled as she remembered seeing the Quarian's face for the first time, after they'd reclaimed her homeworld in a very tense standoff with the Geth.

She gave Tali six months before she got bored of being planet-side and took to the skies again. As much as she wanted her homeworld back, Tali loved the excitement of battle too much to stay put for long. Shepard wondered how long it would take her friend to figure that out. She wouldn't be surprised if the woman became the first Quarian Spectre. She'd get Shepard's recommendation, for damn sure.

But James, James had been there at her lowest. When she was trapped and frustrated and completely unable to prevent the war she knew was coming, he'd been there. He'd treated her like a person first, a hero second, and a traitor never.

Kaidan Alenko could have taken notes.

There were days Shepard wished he had.

Losing the soft-spoken biotic's trust had almost broken her. After all she'd been through, all they'd been through together, he'd believed the rumors and the lies instead of the woman standing in front of him.

The woman who'd loved him.

No more. Any hint of emotion she'd held onto after their confrontation on Horizon he'd effectively killed a year later on Mars. After destroying the Collectors, then turning herself and her shiny new ship in to the Alliance. After spending six months in what amounted to lockdown while they figured out what to do with her. He'd still thought she was working with Cerberus.

She trusted Kaidan at her back. He was a damn good fighter. But no longer with her heart. Never again. No man who could think for even a second that she'd betray Humanity and the Alliance with the bastards responsible for the deaths of her unit on Akuze, deserved it. After his accusations on Horizon, she'd closed that part of herself up tight. She hadn't let anyone in since.

While they hadn't gotten close while she was incarcerated in Vancouver, James had maintained a steady presence. His faith in her had kept her from giving up.

Maybe that's what Anderson was doing now. Crafty bastard. Still, it was nice having a friendly face around. If she was going to be trapped in this purgatory, better to be trapped with a friend.

Misery loves company.

She decided not to look this particular gift horse in the mouth. If Anderson was manipulating her (and really, when _wasn't _he?) he'd chosen well. She'd get revenge later. Kahlee owed her one. Nothing like having someone's lost love from twenty years past in your back pocket. Especially when said lost love was currently someone's _found _love.

The day went pretty much the same as the day before, save for a few new faces on the street-level grunt squad. Shepard and James fell easily back into their old pattern as James stayed close without hovering. He'd had a year's practice being nearby, but just far enough away to not incur the dread wrath of the Commander.

As the workday came to an end, they walked back to the hotel as a group. "So, Lola. Where do they have you quartered?"

"Up on the fourth floor."

"Wow. Lucky. I'm on 2. Half of the residents there are families. I love to see the kids, but _man _does it get hectic and loud down there."

"Yeah they wanted me in a low-traffic area and they figured I could handle the stairs."

"Sounds like they knew you were comin'."

"I figured as much when they gave me my own room."

James stopped dead. Shepard walked a few steps and cast a confused look over her shoulder to where he should have been standing. He jogged a few steps to catch up again, having barely missed being run into from behind by another volunteer.

"How the fuck did you manage that?" He sounded just a mite peeved.

"I think my reputation precedes me." Shepard glowered. "Which is completely ridiculous. I've slept in a tent in bug-and-snake-infested jungle. I've slept on the hard ground, gone without showering for weeks." She wrinkled her nose. "And that was when I was rooming with nine other soldiers. That got fucking _ripe. _But I can't decline the room, because these people want to thank me for being a goddamn hero. And I appreciate that, but I wish they wouldn't."

"Hey, don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Lola. You got peace and quiet and your own bathroom. I say just run with it."

She nodded. There wasn't much else she could do without seeming ungracious. She'd come to the same conclusion all on her own. Still, it was nice having someone she could bitch to who would understand.

They said their good-byes outside the hotel that evening and she headed to her rack early. It had been so long since she'd gotten regular sleep she was stocking up.

Husks and banshees pursued her through her dreams that night, and she woke gasping for breath, her legs snarled in the sheets. With a groan, she rose out of bed and made her way to the washroom, slapping the light on. She splashed water on her face and studied her reflection. She leaned in, shaking fingers trailing over her skin, searching. There was no trace of the red scars that had come with her resurrection, and returned once more with her almost-death. Faint lines were still visible, but she knew from experience they too would disappear in just a few weeks. That creepy red glow in the back of her eyes hadn't made a reappearance since she woke in the Cerberus facility, thank God. In her worst nightmares, those scars spread over her entire body, turning her into a glowing red husk, and when she opened her mouth to speak, that awful foghorn Reaper-scream was all that would come out.

She took a shuddering breath, ignoring the shimmer that hovered in her eyes. She was alive. She was herself. Crying wasn't going to improve the situation.

Somewhat calmed, she toweled off her face and got dressed. She decided on a whim to find Vega's quarters. She knew from experience there would be no more sleep for her, and it was past six hundred hours. It was still quiet on the fourth floor, but maybe the din on the second would have him up at this early hour.

She wasn't wrong. The noise of too many families packed into tiny hotel rooms assaulted her as soon as she opened the door as she left the stairs. Half a dozen children of varying ages and ethnicities played in the hallway, watched through open doors by harried-looking parents.

Shepard had to smile. After so much death and pain and destruction, these children still smiled and played. Their lives had been changed forever, but they were still here. The war had not robbed them of their childhood.

For the first time it struck her that she'd actually saved something. For all the tears and lost homes and dead loved ones and nightmares, there was enough left of the world, of the human race, to start over. To maybe someday find something worth smiling over. The echo of laughter down the hall proved that some had already started to find their happiness even now.

She had forgotten what hope felt like.

A toddler on wobbly legs escaped through an open door and tried to make a break for it past Shepard. She expertly swooped up the boy before he could get into trouble. His mother appeared in the doorway a moment later, relief calming her features as she saw her boy safe. "Oh, thank-you," the small woman gushed as she wiped her hands on a towel. Setting it on her shoulder, she reached for her son.

Shepard handed over the wriggling child with a bemused smile. The woman set the boy on her hip with a stern look and looked back up at Shepard. Her eyes widened. "Hey aren't you…?"

"Shepard. Nice to meet you. Cute kid. He's going to be a fast one."

"Already is. He's been walking for two weeks and I can barely keep up."

"Glad to be of service then. Hey, you wouldn't happen to know which room James Vega is in, would you?"

"Big guy, buff, charmer? Lots of tattoos and sexy scars?"

Shepard smirked. "Sounds like the Lieutenant."

"He's down at the other end of the floor. 234, I think? If you don't mind my asking, how do you know him?"

"He served with me aboard the Normandy. Damn good soldier to have at your back. Bit of a mouthpiece, though."

The woman smiled. "Tell him Adele said hi."

Shepard's smirk broadened. "I will pass that along. I'd imagine he's got a few admirers, though."

Adele nodded. "You would not be wrong. I have to go get this guy dressed. It was nice meeting you."

Shepard walked with her to her door. "And Commander? Thank-you."

Humbled by the woman's simple acknowledgement, Shepard nodded and made her way through the mobile obstacle course that was the children playing, to the other end of the building.

She was almost bowled over by over six feet of solid muscle as the door swung open with a _whoosh _before she even got the chance to knock. "Oh, hey. Sorry. Didn't see you there. You're Shepard, right? You lost?"

"This Vega's room?"

"Oh. Yeah. He's back there." The man thumbed behind him before slipping past her, obviously in a hurry.

She stepped over the threshold, seeing three men in various states of undress sitting or stretched out on folding camp cots. "Hey, Shepard. Come on in." One of the men she'd worked with both days, Dale, beckoned. "If you're looking for Vega, he's that lump." The man pointed to a cot against the wall with a man in a t-shirt and shorts, stretched out face-down with a pillow pulled over his head. Muffled noises Shepard had to assume were profanity came from under the pillow before it was hurled in the direction of Dale.

"Fuck, man. Would letting me have twenty extra minutes of sleep kill you guys?" he asked, rolling over.

The bathroom door opened to yet another man, towel wrapped around his waist, foaming at the mouth. He pulled a toothbrush out for just long enough to say, "Yes," before closing the door and resuming brushing his teeth.

"Hey, Lola. What brings you down to this level of Hell?" James asked as he sat up.

"I was awake. Thought I'd check out your digs." She looked around. Six cots were arranged around the room, bags and clothes strewn haphazardly over and under and around them. It looked (and smelled) like the college dorm room from hell. "I think someone hates you."

"Ha. Tell me about it. Between these five yahoos and the children's orchestra I think Anderson lied to me and this is secretly part of my N7 training."

"Pretty sure between your conduct during the war, and my recommendation, they're going to grandfather you in," Shepard replied.

James froze. "Really? I didn't know they do that."

"I don't think they ever have. But since the training facility has been destroyed and many of the N7-level agents are dead, they're considering bumping a few people up. I imagine you're at the top of the list."

He grinned, nodding. "I could live with that."

"Hey, you want to come talk to me in the hall for a minute?"

"Sure." He manoeuvered his way through the room, miraculously finding enough clear spaces on the floor to step in, and walked past her through the open door. She followed, closing it against the sound of juvenile catcalls.

"What's up, Lola. You look serious all of a sudden."

"This is ridiculous. You're crammed in here with five guys while I have a room the same size to myself. Why don't you pack up your bunk and move in with me."

"You flirtin' with me again, Lola?" he asked with a lazy smile.

"No, I mean it. You can have more space and only share a bathroom with one person, and your roommates can have a little more breathing room. Also, there's only volunteers on my floor. No kids. So it's quiet and you can get more sleep." One glance around his room and her decision had been made.

He considered for a moment. "I can be packed in five minutes." She'd never heard him so serious.

Shepard laughed. "That's what I thought. I'll wait for you out here."

True to his word, James was packed up and back in the hallway in under five minutes. He handed her the folded up cot and hefted a large duffel bag. "The guys wanted you to know that, if you wanted to, you could swap and move in with them."

She laughed again. "Naw. One beefcake roommate is all the testosterone I can willingly handle. I worked hard to get to a place where I don't have to share quarters like that. I'm not going back if I can help it."

"I think you've just gotten soft in your old age."

"I could still hand you your ass," she fired back, "or revoke my invitation."

That sobered him up. "That you could. Lead the way, commander."

"Adele said to say hi," Shepard tossed over her shoulder as she headed for the nearest staircase.

"Hmm, did she now?" replied Vega with an air of interest.

Shepard shook her head and started up the stairs. She heard him chuckle as he followed her.

"Wow, Lola. Nice digs." James looked around her… no, _their_ room. A single glance took in the bed in the corner, dresser and bathroom. It didn't look like anyone lived there at all. "It's gonna take some getting used to, being able to see the floor and all," he joked.

"You see why I had to take pity on you?" she cocked her head and raised a brow at him.

"Yeah. Looks like you don't do much in here. Seems lonely." He didn't look at her as he made the observation. There was a surprisingly perceptive mind hiding under the beefcake exterior.

"Honestly? Yeah. I don't mind the quiet, but I miss my crew." She turned her back to the room as she bent at the low dresser and moved all her clothes from the three drawers on the left. "You can have these." She gestured to the empty side. "All my clothes fit in the other three anyways."

She turned to find James staring at her, his green eyes seeing too much. As usual. She sighed. "What?" she asked resignedly.

"You know you can talk to me, right? Don't bottle this shit up."

Shepard gave him a weak smile. "I know where to find you."

He nodded and set his duffel on top of the dresser. She set up his cot against the far wall while he unpacked.

"Your rooming with me might ruin your chances with the ladies, Vega. You sure you can handle that?"

He shot an amused look over his shoulder. "Long as you can handle the rumors that we're sleepin' together."

Fuck. She could _feel _her cheeks getting red. Saviors of the Citadel and Galactic Heroes weren't supposed to blush. Too bad her face hadn't gotten the memo. She sat down on the edge of her bed and watched him finish setting his clothes neatly into the dresser, hoping she could get her reaction under control before he turned around. He'd never let her hear the end of it if he knew he'd made her blush.

If he found out it was even possible.

He tossed his pillow and blanket haphazardly on the cot, then set his empty duffel next to hers in the closet. He leaned on a wall, arms crossed over his chest and looked over his new home and roommate.

"Sorry about the bed," Shepard patted the bedspread apologetically. "I'd ask for them to give you one, but I think that would reek of pulling rank."

"Hey, some of us don't _need _that kind of luxury," he replied with a smirk. "Besides, I spent most of my nights on a cot just like this one in the hold of the Normandy."

"I always wondered about that."

He shrugged and moved to sit on the cot, a few feet from where she sat. "I prefer the hum of engines to the voices of crew when I'm trying to sleep." He didn't add that he wanted to be there when she returned from missions. He always slept better when he knew she was safe, back aboard.

She'd never let him hear the end of it if she knew he worried. And she'd shit a brick if she knew just _how much_.

Shepard looked around her newly-shared quarters. "Looks like we've got you situated. Want to go grab breakfast?"

His stomach grumbled, answering for him.

She grinned. "C'mon. Let's head down."

Breakfast was good. Work that day was uneventful, but exhausting.

Shepard was really getting to enjoy the feeling of a hard day's labor that didn't tax her conscience. They were doing good work here, no question. It had been so long since she could unequivocally say that. Anderson was right. Again. She really did need this.

The end of the day arrived and they walked back in the fading light, James griping about a sore shoulder. It was a common complaint among the the volunteers. Theirs was hard physical labor, and sore muscles, along with minor cuts and bruises, came with the territory.

While she commiserated with their pain, Shepard could lay claim to none of their ailments. For her, taxing her biotics meant bone-deep weariness and raging hunger. She knew from past experience if she pushed too hard it would lead to poor muscle co-ordination and a piercing headache.

So while at the end of the day most of the grunt crew just wanted a massage, she was happy to eat and crawl into her bed as quickly as possible.

Shepard watched the play of muscles in James' back as they made their way to the fourth floor. She absently admired the way his dark pants showed off the muscles in his well-toned ass. She wasn't dead, after all. And the fact that she'd been celibate since she'd_ been dead _didn't help.

Two goddamn years. Maybe she could have skipped the volunteer thing and gotten herself laid. A good fucking would help set her to rights. She grinned, knowing the man in front of her had no clue as to the direction of her thoughts. She imagined he'd find it fascinating.

Maybe Massani would be up for it? She cocked her head, thinking of the grizzled old merc. He was one of the few people in the galaxy who could truly understand what it was to come back from the dead and have to rebuild your life, yourself from the ground up. He also wouldn't get clingy after. He'd be damn good in bed too. She'd put good money on that one. The man didn't do anything by halves. She wondered what he was up to now.

James reached the top of the stairs and held the door for her. "Penny for your thoughts, Commander?"

"Huh?" she asked, still lost in thought.

"You've been pretty quiet. Was just wondering what's going on under that practical-but-sexy hair of yours."

She shrugged as she passed him. "Just missing the old crew."

He was glad she was in front of him, afraid his expression would give him away. "Anyone in particular?" he asked. _Alenko, _he thought to himself. _She misses her old lover._ For some reason the thought left a hollow sensation in his chest. He resisted the urge to rub it away as he let the door fall closed and followed her to their room.

_Their room_. Fear and excitement filled him at the idea. It shouldn't have. He'd shared close quarters with plenty of people, both men and women, throughout his career. He and the Commander had seen each other in various states of undress numerous times. The undermesh of their armour didn't leave much to the imagination, and they'd suited up together, or done the reverse, more times than he could count.

This felt different. He couldn't quite piece together why.

She held the door for him this time. He moved past her into the room, careful not to brush against her. James didn't know if he could conceal his reaction if they touched.

"Shower allocation is tomorrow, so you're just going to have to put up with my stench," Shepard said glibly as she closed the door.

"Believe me, you smell like a fucking rose garden compared to my last roommates. It smelled like a locker room in there."

Shepard bit back a smile. "I may have noticed."

"Sorry for stinking up your nice digs."

She shrugged, moving to sit on the edge of her bed. "It was too sterile in here anyway. Now at least it looks a bit lived-in."

"I live to serve."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Don't let your groupies know. They'll be lined up outside the door twenty-four-seven."

"Don't be jealous, Lola. There's plenty of me to go around."

She rolled her eyes at his smarmy smile.

"Besides, you've got no shortage of admirers, yourself."

Shepard blinked hard. "What?"

"You haven't noticed the way people stare in awe as you walk by?"

"I try my best to ignore that."

"Yeah, well, while you're ignoring the hero-worship, you're missing the looks more than a few of the men are giving you. A couple of women, too."

"I'm not exactly in the market for a relationship right now," she protested.

"Maybe a relationship ain't what they're looking for."

She cocked her head for a moment. "Nope. I'm too messed up right now to deal with that shit. Last thing I need right now is a clinger after what's supposed to be some casual recreation."

"So I won't have to worry about coming home to find a sock on the door knob?" James asked with a smirk.

"Will I?" she shot back.

"Naw. I'm not interested in a quick hook-up right now. Don't even know where I'll be in three months, so nothing serious either."

"A bit of celibacy might do you good, Vega."

"Believe it or not, Lola, I've gone without for a while now." _Since I met you, actually. _He'd let someone pull out all his fingernails one by one before he'd admit _that _detail.

"Wonders never cease," she replied, but the sarcastic bite had gone out of her. Her shoulders had begun to slump when she'd sat down, and her blinks were getting longer and longer.

"Why don't you get ready for bed? You look exhausted," he offered. She nodded, slowly rising from her position on the bed and moving to grab shorts and a t-shirt from the dresser.

"I'll get changed in the washroom." She held up the clothes and headed in without waiting for a response from him.

James tried hard not to picture what that process would look like. Particularly the middle part of the process. He failed. Shaking his head, he quickly moved to the dresser and retrieved his own sleeping clothes, changing as fast as he could. The last thing he needed was for either of them to see each other in any state of undress. It was awkward enough sharing sleeping quarters without that.

Shepard came back out of the washrooms only a few minutes later.

They stood there in the small room, staring at each other, yet somehow not-staring. Their glances managed to slide away whenever their eyes came close to locking. Finally, Shepard laughed.

"I figured it out."

A crease appeared between James' eyebrows, but he said nothing.

"You and I are both completely clothed. Fuck, we've practically got matching outfits," she gestured back and forth between them, indicating their black athletic shorts and t-shirts. The only difference was that Shepard's shorts bore the distinctive N-7 red-on-white stripe down the right hip. "We've been in a small room together in the same or less clothes. I never felt this off about it."

James nodded, hoping she'd get to the point. Being awkward was bad. Hearing her _talk _about it was almost unbearable. Leave it to Shepard to tackle it head-on. He'd have been happier just pretending everything was normal.

She pointed. "It's the feet. In all the time I've known you, seen you partially undressed, I've never seen your bare feet." She cocked her head as she studied them, grinning faintly.

James thought about that for a moment, paying close attention to the Commander's bare feet. He broke into a grin. "Who'd have thought, huh? Everything we've been through and we get hung up on naked feet." He shook his head. She walked past him and climbed under the covers.

"I have to admit though, they're pretty sexy," Shepard tossed sleepily over her shoulder as she snuggled into bed.

_Well, fuck. _Now he'd never be able to get to sleep.

And damn her, he was pretty sure she knew that.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Thanks to everyone who favourited and followed this story. It's a slow build but bear with me. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated.**_

Actually, he got to sleep not long after she did. Slept pretty well too. It was a godsend to wake up to the sound of Shepard moving around in the bathroom, rather than the thundering of little feet and the cries of enormous voices from tiny bodies. He stretched, feeling like he'd gotten the first good night's sleep in weeks.

Shepard came out of the bathroom a moment later, fully clothed and looking ready to go. She nodded to him and tossed her sleep clothes into the pile of dirty laundry in the corner.

James sensed her desire for silence and didn't push her for conversation. There would be plenty of time for that later. He pulled clean clothes from the dresser and headed for the bathroom.

"Ready?" she asked as he came out, dressed and refreshed. He nodded, and they made their way down for breakfast in companionable silence.

Shepard couldn't help but notice the sideways glances they were getting as they ate. "Rumor mill works fast here," she commented between bites.

"Mm-hm," James agreed. Swallowing, he added, "You think we're having wild monkey sex?"

Her eyes widened and she bit her lip. "I should be so lucky," she replied dryly, eyes dancing.

He choked a bit on that, then chuckled. "Lola, your sense of humor is going to be the death of me."

"Vega, if I haven't managed to kill you yet, I doubt my sense of humor is going to be what does it."

"Yeah, if facing a Reaper on foot doesn't do a man in, not much that _can_, far as I'm concerned."

"Never underestimate the power of a small but very determined woman," Shepard cautioned.

"If said small woman is the Commander next to me, I don't think there's any danger of that. You, Shepard, are a force of nature."

She grinned as she set her cutlery on her empty plate. "We'd better get out there. Work starts soon."

"Slave driver," he mumbled as he followed her to drop off the dishes.

Terry joined them as they walked to the site. "Shepard," he greeted her. He nodded to James as he fell into step on her other side. "I hear you're doing good work. How've you been feeling?"

"Checking up on me, are you?" she asked without malice.

"Believe it or not, I make a point of checking up on all my new recruits. I did it for Vega here last week."

"Yup," James affirmed.

"I heard through the grapevine that you've moved the Lieutenant here into your quarters."

"Is there a problem with that?" Her posture stiffened, just barely, but James noticed.

"No. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with you." He searched her face for any sign of trouble.

"It's fine. I just feel more comfortable having James with me." It was the easiest explanation, and likely to lead to the least questions.

Terry turned his considering gaze on the muscular man on the other side of Shepard. "That makes sense, him being your crew and all. Just promise me you'll come to me if you need anything."

Shepard nodded and smiled. "You have my word."

The set of Terry's shoulders relaxed. "You two have a nice day then."

"You, too," she replied.

After the man was out of earshot, James turned to Shepard. "What do you think that was about?"

She shrugged. "I don't think they want me interfering in personal problems between volunteers. Terry wanted to make sure that wasn't what I was doing. They went so far out of their way to give me my own room, I figured all I needed to do was imply I was afraid to sleep alone."

"Sneaky," he replied.

"I don't need my own room. I barely use the thing. It doesn't make sense for me to have one to myself, but I can't seem ungrateful for what is essentially a gesture of appreciation."

"Politics again, Lola?"

She grimaced. "Always. Story of my fucking life. All I need to be happy is a gun and some bad guys, and the universe keeps giving me politics."

"Hate to say it, but you're good at it. Please don't hurt me," he added, hiding behind his arm.

"I'm not actually that good at politics. What I'm good at is seeing the other species as people, and treating them accordingly.

James shook his head disbelievingly. "Still can't believe you did all that. Cured the genophage. Brokered peace between the Krogan and the Turians. Same with the Geth and Quarians. _And _you somehow got the Batarians to back us up. After the Bahak system, I can't believe you got them to follow you anywhere."

"Me and the Batarians don't exactly have a good track record. After what they did to my family, everyone I knew on Mindoir…" she shook her head, jaw clenched. "I didn't want to destroy the Alpha relay. There were over three hundred thousand Batarians in that system. I didn't even have time to warn them." Shepard's eyes pleaded with the Lieutenant for understanding. "But it was them or the rest of the galaxy. A few hundred thousand for billions."

"Shepard, you don't have to explain this to me. I could see how hard that decision was on you in the six months we were in Vancouver." He put a hand on her shoulder. "You made the right decision."

"It wasn't about revenge. Those deaths are on my head, whatever the reason. Those were civilians. Women, children. Those people had nothing to do with the raid on my home colony. I would have saved them, if I could. But the Reapers were right on top of me. I barely made it out in time. And I bought us a year."

James turned her towards him, stopping them both. His eyes pierced into hers. "You saved us all when you did that. None of this," he gestured at the buildings around them, the people walking past them, "would even be here if you hadn't made that call. I know it was hard. I just wish you would stop beating yourself up about it."

She swallowed hard. The flash of pain in his eyes, pain for her, was almost too much. The emotion she'd been stuffing down for the last year almost bubbled over. Her eyes stung with barely-held-back tears.

James took a chance and pulled her into a hug. She resisted at first, then gave in, leaning on his hard chest and wrapping her arms around his back. "It's going to be okay, Lola." He smoothed a hand gently over her back. "We're still here. It's going to be okay."

The other volunteers flowed around them, giving them space and privacy. The sight of someone breaking down had become a common occurrence. The world had changed, and no one was coping well.

Shepard patted James' back, and slid out of his arms. Taking a deep breath, she looked into his eyes. "Thanks for that."

"Everyone is having a hard time with this. It's not easy for any of us. Even you."

Once again, James was showing his hidden depths. Somehow, he always knew the right thing to do.

"Careful, James. You're going to make me think you're more than just a knuckle-dragging beefcake."

He smirked. "Hate to have that. Ruin my reputation."

"C'mon, Beefcake. We're going to be late for work."

If the first night sharing an apartment was awkward, the second was torture. It was their night to use the shower. He'd told Shepard to go first. She looked exhausted. She always did at the end of a shift. Her amp was designed for short bursts of intense energy. The way she used it now was less intense but for longer duration. It was taking its toll on her energy levels.

At least she was sleeping. Anderson would be glad to hear that tidbit when he sent off a short status update at the end of the week. It was a nice benefit to her insisting he move in. He could keep a close eye on the Commander without seeming like he was hovering.

He heard the water turn on, and the accompanying clench in his gut was nearly painful. There she was, one flimsy wall and a few feet separating them, water and suds sliding their way down her naked form. He could picture it all too well. His damn imagination was going to be the death of him. He needed to get his libido in check before she came out and saw evidence of just how much he was affected by her nearness.

He settled for gathering a clean change of clothes and strategically holding them in his lap. If he was careful, he could work around her without being obvious.

The water turned off. The sounds from the washroom indicated she was drying off and brushing her teeth. She came out, looking clean but still exhausted. "Thanks for letting me go first. I hope you don't mind but I'm going straight to bed tonight."

"Not at all. I'm just excited for my first shower in half a week."

She nodded with an absent smile, making a beeline for the bed. As soon as her back was turned James took advantage and went into the bathroom. Shepard remained completely oblivious to his embarrassing condition.

She stripped the bed quickly, tossing the soiled linens in the corner with her clothes. She'd leave them in the bag labelled for their room, outside in the morning. Rumor had it the clothes would be cleaned and returned by evening.

She'd requested a clean set after shift today, and one of the other residents of the fourth floor had shown her where to find them in the linen closet. Shepard made the bed back up efficiently. She pulled her biotic amp out, gently sliding it into the sterilization canister attached to a solar panel on the window, pulled the covers back, and slid in. She was asleep in under a minute, exhaustion saving her from the kinds of thoughts James had had to endure while she was in the shower.

James woke up sometime in the middle of the night to a strange sound. He immediately reached for his gun. Realising where he was and that he didn't have a sidearm, he sat up and searched for the source of the disturbance.

Shepard lay with her back to him, curled on her side. Her head thrashed back and forth. She was making faint noises in the back of her throat and her hand twitched on top of the bedspread.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, standing up and moving the few feet to the side of her bed. "Shepard," he said softly. She kept thrashing, and the noises just grew more intense.

"Lola," he said, louder. No improvement.

He hesitated. Touching the Commander in this state wouldn't exactly be the smartest thing he'd ever do. He couldn't remember if she took her amp out before going to bed. For his sake, he hoped she did. Her biotics were easily strong enough to hurl him straight through the wall and into the hallway. If he was lucky, that is. There was also the option of the window she was facing.

But he couldn't leave her like this. Crouching low to the floor to give her less to aim at, he reached over and shook her arm.

Being Commander Shepard, she came up swinging.

Being fully awake and anticipating the move, he dodged the fist. Barely. He rolled to his back on the floor and called out, "Shepard it's me. Lieutenant James Vega." He said the words slowly, enunciating each syllable. "You had a bad dream. I woke you up."

Wide eyes and the top of a head appeared over the edge of the bed. She was breathing heavy from the sudden rush of adrenaline. "Fuck, James. I could have killed you."

He stared up at her. "No shit. It's a damn good thing you aren't armed."

She took a deep breath. "That's why I started sleeping with my amp out. I woke up from a nightmare and warped a bulkhead or two in my quarters on the SR-2."

"Lucky for me you did, or I might have made a Vega-sized hole in our apartment."

Her legs appeared over the side of the bed, bare feet on the floor next to his shoulder. She reached a hand down to him, pulling him up. He joined her, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I don't think my insurance covers acts of Vega," she joked.

"Hey, all I was trying to do was wake you up. You put me through a wall, that's on you."

"Was I having a nightmare?" she asked.

"You don't remember?"

She sighed. "Not this time." She stood up and went into the bathroom, the light through the open door casting a long swath over the floor and onto the foot of the bed. She splashed water on her face and stared long and hard at her own reflection. She didn't need to remember the dream to feel how much it had shaken her. Toweling off the moisture, she turned the light back off and returned to the bed, passing James, perched on his own cot. "Thank-you for waking me up," Shepard said, meeting his eyes. "Sorry I took a swing at you."

"Don't worry about it, Lola. We all get nightmares." His eyes held the weight of pain and fear that was the memory of his own bad nights. She nodded, light-blind eyes missing most of his haunted expression. She climbed into bed, laying on her back and staring at the ceiling of the dark room.

She lay like that for a long time before turning on her side. A few minutes later she turned onto the other. A few minutes later she heard a voice from the other side of the room. "Can't sleep?"

Shepard let out a whoosh of breath. "Nope. I'm freaking exhausted. I'd kill to get back to sleep." Her words took on a tinge of frustrated shudder.

"Can I make a suggestion?" he asked tentatively.

"Fire away. I'm open to suggestions."

"Want to sleep with something solid against your back?"

"You propositioning me, Vega?" she asked with laughter dancing in her voice.

He let out a bark of laughter. "You should be so lucky. No. I'm just saying that it can be nice to put your back against someone when you're sleeping."

"You know this from experience?"

"Yes, actually."

She thought for a long moment. "Fine," she heaved on a resentful breath. "You're by the window, though."

"Acceptable terms," he replied, standing and moving around the foot of the bed. She felt it sink as he climbed up next to the wall below the window. He squirmed around until he was laying with his back to her, facing the window, then wiggled back towards her.

She reciprocated, until their backs were pressed together from hip to shoulder. She had to admit, the warm presence made her feel instantly better. "This is nice," she admitted.

"Shhh," he admonished. "Go to sleep."

Damn. Feeling that rumble through his back when he spoke could get addictive. Like lying next to a giant purring cat. She closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep in no time.

James did likewise, ignoring the dull pain in his chest as he lay next to the woman he loved.

It was both the best and the worst night's sleep he'd ever had.

The bed was softer and bigger than the cot. Something solid at your back was the best recipe for a good night's sleep for any soldier, and Commander Shepard was about the strongest thing in the galaxy anyone could sleep next to.

So it was the safest he'd felt in as long as he could remember.

But then on the other hand, there's this warm, beautiful, half-dressed woman in bed with you. He'd woken up more than once with a painfully hard erection. Fantasizing about your dream woman is a helluva lot less dangerous when said dream woman isn't sleeping next to you in her bed.

It had been bad enough knowing that body was just a few feet away as he slept. This was worse.

So, so very much worse. Maybe hell was having everything you want right there next to you, and not being able to have it.

Shepard didn't seem to share in his discomfort. The bitch had slept like a rock. She woke smiling and elbowed him in the back before getting to her feet. "Time to get up, James. If you don't hurry we won't get to eat before leaving."

He groaned. He'd been dozing, half-awake for the last half hour. He rolled over to see her pull her amp out of its sterilization case and slide it home in the interface at the back of her skull. Once it was situated to her satisfaction, she turned and smiled at him.

James scrubbed his hands over his face. Blinking blearily, he turned bloodshot eyes at his roommate.

"Didn't sleep so hot, huh?" she asked sympathetically, moving across the room to rummage through her half of the dresser. "Sorry for keeping you up. My nightmares usually only bother me." She spoke as though it was a fact of life: something she'd just learned to live with.

"It's fine, Shepard. I'm just not used to sharing a bed. Takes some getting used to," he admitted.

"Thanks for that, by the way." She turned to meet his eyes. "Often I can't even get to sleep after... You woke me up before it got that bad."

"You're welcome, Lola. If it got you a good night's sleep, it was worth it."

"Not sure I like you trading your sleep for mine, but thank-you anyways." She held up her folded clothes. "I'll be just a minute."

True to form, she was done using the facilities in short order. James was already dressed when she came out. "Hey, I'm going to head down without you. People are starting to call you my shadow. I'd like to be seen alone for a couple of minutes, if only to stave off the rumors that I'm becoming co-dependant."

He grinned. "Go ahead. Save me a seat. I'll catch up." The truth was, he could use the time to find his equilibrium. Last night had him feeling off-kilter as hell. Some Shepardless time, however brief, could only help.

This pseudo-assignment was going to kill him. He turned and stared at the bed they'd shared last night. He could picture all sorts of things he would rather have been doing there. Hell, Shepard had figured prominently in his fantasies since before they'd even met. James shook his head. He wasn't here for that. He was here in this room for her. She needed something, some_one_ to anchor her to this world until she could see a reason to keep breathing on her own. He doubted a fling would help solve her problems.

One night would never be enough for him anyways. Not with her. If he couldn't keep her for the long haul, he didn't want her for a night. No matter what his dick tried to tell him.

So he'd sleep next to her. He'd wake her from her nightmares. He'd stand beside her, her rock amidst all this chaos. If she'd let him. But he knew how this ended. She'd grow strong enough to stand on her own again, and she wouldn't need him anymore.

He'd end up just another footnote in her career. In her _life._ Leaving a gaping hole in his chest when they went their separate ways. She would never know. He wouldn't pressure her like that. He'd find some way to make her see that life was worth living. Then he would let her go. If he could survive the Reaper war, he could survive this.

These fleeting moments of intimacy that hinted at something more would have to be enough for him. He was too much of a pragmatist to believe in the fairy tale.

James made the bed, shaking himself out of his morose thoughts. If he didn't hurry his ass up, he wouldn't get breakfast. _Best to deal with the problem right in front of you. _ The rest he'd handle when the time came. No point dwelling on it now.


	6. Chapter 6

**_A/N: I've decided to post this chapter a day early as a means to procrastinate from editing my novel. Enjoy!_**

The days started to flow together. Shepard gradually became more comfortable around the civilians, hanging out at the tables before and after meals. She got to know many of them by name. Rarely did a day go by that she _didn't _hear one or more of the children playing, pretending to be her. It was pretty entertaining hearing the feats they could come up with. Hard to believe, but her story was growing with the telling.

Most of the adults treated her with a quiet, friendly deference.

Despite both of their protests to the contrary, she and James were widely considered to be _together._ In pretty much every sense of the word.

Over the space of a week or so, they had taken to sharing her bed. In the most boring way possible. One or both would get nightmares almost every night. They'd discovered if they slept back-to-back, all it took when one of them started to get a nightmare was for the other to reach back and shake them. It kept the dreams from getting too bad, as well.

So they'd fallen into this peculiar pattern where they worked side-by-side all day, slept literally touching each other at night, and were rarely more than a few feet away from one another, but aside from all that physical closeness, were simply friends.

She'd come to rely on him being close. He was a steady presence when memories or emotions threatened to swamp her. Just seeing him was enough to calm her when the panic rose up. She wondered if he'd be insulted that she was using him as her personal PTSD support dog.

James kept a small communicator hidden in the back of a drawer. He made up an excuse to get away from the apartment without her and gave progress reports to Admiral Anderson via videofeed once a week. He was glad to report that she seemed to be opening up; enjoying the company of the people around her and even smiling once in a while. She wasn't out of the woods yet, but she was better.

The crew had finished with clearing and repairing the first building. The catalogers reassigned furniture, moved almost everything back into the now-safe, functional, and clean building, and had begun assigning permanent residences to families and moving them in. It was hectic, but it was freeing up room in the hotel for new volunteers.

The grunts had cleared an ever-widening crisscross of streets. Only three weeks after Shepard had reluctantly arrived to help the reclamation efforts, it was now a common sight to see civilians walking along the streets. There were four buildings within short distance of the volunteer quarters that were now full-up with families that had been relocated.

It was slow going, but they were making progress. Life would be hard, but it would go on.

Shepard stood at the side of the street they'd almost finished clearing, sipping from a water bottle as the thought suddenly struck her. She hadn't seen the rebuilding of Mindoir. The Alliance had evacuated her, and she had requested foster placement on another colony. They had obliged out of concern for her mental stability. She wondered if this was what it was like to watch your home rebuilt. Her face split into a broad grin.

"You smile like that Lola, I don't know whether to join in or run for cover."

"I was just thinking about how it must feel to have your home destroyed and rebuilt. Then I remembered: I actually know _exactly_ how it feels." She rubbed the sweat on her forehead off with her sleeve, leaving a large dirty smudge in its wake.

"Mindoir?" he asked.

"Nope. Normandy."

James cocked his head. "Makes sense."

"It's the one good thing Cerberus ever did."

"I could argue that fact, Commander."

She shrugged, moving back into the street and taking a good look at a steel beam that lay across the pavement. "I died, James. Joker refused to leave the cockpit as the Collector ship ripped the Normandy in two, and I had to drag his sorry ass out of there and stuff him into an escape pod. Pretty sure I broke his arm in the process. The Collectors came around for a second pass and all I had time for was to hit the eject button. The impact from the blast ruptured one of my air lines and I suffocated to death while falling into the nearest planet's atmosphere."

James had turned a sickly shade of grey. His eyes were wide and he stared at her, half-crouched to pick up a piece of debris.

"I _died_, James. Cerberus took two years and billions of credits to bring me back. I didn't ask for that. I never wanted it. It's not the way I would have chosen to go, but I saved one of my crew and I'd damn well do it again if given the chance." Her face hardened into a grimace as she tested the weight of the beam with her hands. It didn't budge. "Then I wake up two years later, on a table in some lab with alarms blaring and someone yelling at me. It actually got worse from there, believe it or not."

She stood back up, wiping her gloved hands on her cargo pants. Walking around the debris, she checked out the beam from another angle, trying to figure out the easiest and safest way to lift it. "I died a hero. 'Savior of the Citadel', and all that. By the time I woke up again I was already considered half-insane and a terrorist. 'Traitor' and 'war criminal' would get added to the list of my crimes later."

Shepard looked James dead in the eye. He just stood there with his mouth half-open as she spoke. "The rumor that I was working with Cerberus circulated before I even woke up. Who do you think was responsible for that?"

James blinked out of his shock. "The _Illusive Man_ spread those rumors about you?"

"Bingo. Separate me from my allies, tell me there's a threat that's not being handled, give me a crew that's loyal to me and rebuild my ship to boot? How could I refuse?" She ended her tirade on a mocking high note.

James let out a string of expletives in Spanish. He stood to his full height, hands clenching and unclenching impotently. "I had no idea he was that manipulative."

"He was responsible for the deaths of the soldiers in my unit on Akuze. Do you know how _desperate _he had to make me before I was willing to work with him? Can you imagine following orders from someone who killed dozens of your friends as a fucking _experiment_?"

She stood back, motioning the other crew who were working nearby to do the same. Their exchange had gathered a bit of a crowd, workers finding some reason to work within earshot, and as quietly as possible to boot. She raised her hands, the blue nimbus of her biotics crackling with power. The beam slowly lifted. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Her heart raced. She shook with the strain of lifting so much weight. Shepard could feel the heat at the base of her skull that told her she was straining her biotics. Ignoring it, she moved the beam down the center of the street towards the massive refuse bin. When it had ten feet or so to go, she launched it hard into the bin with a resounding crash.

The men around her stared. If there was anything Shepard was known for among them, it was her biotic precision. The most they'd heard from anything she'd moved in the last three weeks was a soft _thud _as she set it down.

She turned on James, face red and eyes blazing. "I owe that son of a bitch _nothing_! I didn't ask to be brought back. I think I earned my _right _to rest in peace. He stole that from me. So when I say that the only good thing Cerberus ever did was build me a new Normandy, I goddamn well mean it!" With that, she stormed off towards the hotel.

James let her go, figuring that pushing the issue further would likely end in bodily harm. Probably his. He'd talk to her later, after she calmed down. _If _she calmed down. He got back to work, stomach roiling at the thought of what she'd just told him. He'd had no idea.

He almost wished he didn't know now.

Shepard didn't return to the worksite that day. She reached the hotel without realising where she'd been headed. She stood there, shoulders heaving as she focused on just breathing in and out. She vibrated with suppressed rage. Red tinged the edge of her vision. She couldn't be here.

She had to get out. Now.

She found her legs steering her to the nearest empty street. Too much. The anger, the pain, the emotion was all too much. It had to go somewhere. So she poured it into her legs, her arms. They pumped, coursing with adrenaline as she burst into a sprint.

She didn't care where she went. Only that she was alone. And stayed that way. Before long, she found herself running over and around rubble in streets that hadn't been cleared yet. Good. The more wreckage, the fewer people.

Half-collapsed buildings. Yawning craters. Crashed ships. Here, _this _was the world she'd made. Because this is what she was made for. Death. Destruction. Devastation. There was nothing of peace or happiness or rebuilding here. Her lungs burned. Her legs ached. Her eyes stung from the dust and something she refused to name. Yet still she pushed. Harder. Faster. More. Maybe if the pain in her body reached the magnitude of the pain in her soul she could finally find peace.

Sunlight didn't reach to the streets here. Long shadows. Dust. Broken buildings looming over the streets below. Here was the city the Alliance didn't want the civilians to know about. The devastation was impossible to hide. It was like running through her nightmares. The scenery matched her mood perfectly.

She ran until there was nothing left. And when she hit the end of her stamina and her strength, when her legs collapsed beneath her from one step to the next and sent her crashing into the dirt…

She cried.

The sobs that had clawed at her throat for hours this afternoon finally burst free. Crumpled in a heap, tears pouring down her face, a keening cry coming from some desperate place deep inside that she'd buried for so long…

She cried.

James pulled the communicator out of his dresser and headed up the ladder to the roof. Ensuring he was out of sight behind an array of solar panels, he set the device on a ledge and set it for Anderson's personal line.

When Shepard hadn't returned an hour after she'd stormed off, he had excused himself to go find her. By that time enough of the other workers were worried enough to tell him to go.

It took only a couple of minutes to get a response.

"Lieutenant Vega," Anderson's voice came over the comm a half-second before his face appeared. He was casually attired in a t-shirt and an annoyed crease occupied the space between his eyebrows, "I wasn't expecting a report for another four days."

"Sorry Sir," James replied. "I wouldn't bother you, but Commander Shepard has gone missing."

The Admiral's eyes widened in alarm. "Missing? For how long?"

"About an hour and a half. She got to talking about Cerberus and the conversation got a bit heated. She stormed off and hasn't been seen since."

"I take it you've looked in all the obvious places?"

James was relieved the man wasn't going to treat him like an idiot and waste both of their time.

"Yes, Sir. The last she was seen was in the courtyard outside our quarters. She set off into the city."

Anderson nodded. "EDI, can you trace her omni-tool?"

"Already on it, Sir. Co-ordinates at your secondary display. Life signs normal," came a feminine voice.

"EDI?" James asked. "I thought you were out of commission."

"I was indisposed. Fortunately Mr. Moreau found a back-up I had hidden in his 'recreational extranet' files, and a team has been restoring my functionality."

"Good to have you back," James replied earnestly.

"Thank-you, Lieutenant," the pleasant voice replied.

Anderson read off the co-ordinates. "Think you can find her?"

"Absolutely. There is one thing, though. She said the rumors of her working with Cerberus circulated before she actually woke up. Is that true?"

Anderson squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Yes. I wasn't aware she knew though. I should have known she'd figure it out."

"So Cerberus manipulated the Alliance into thinking she was a traitor."

Anderson's shoulders slumped. "Yes. And we fell for it."

"You didn't, Sir. You're the one person who's had her back through everything. She knows that."

"Go get her, Lieutenant. Give me a status report as soon as possible. Dismissed."

The feed went dead.

James stowed the communicator back in his dresser and went to find the Commander.

Terry approached James as he exited the hotel. "I heard there was an altercation and Shepard is missing?"

James held up a small tablet with the co-ordinates on it. "I pulled some strings and got her traced. I'm going to get her now. If that's okay?"

Terry slid his hands into his pockets and rolled up on his toes. "Whatever happened between the two of you, is it going to cause problems in the future?"

James took a step back, shaking his head. "No, no. You got the wrong idea. We didn't get in some lover's spat. I just brought up some shit from her past she hadn't dealt with yet." Rubbing the back of his neck, he added, "I didn't expect her to react like that."

Terry tapped his bottom lip with his forefinger. "It's my job to make sure the work gets done. When you have people walking off in the middle of the day, work doesn't get done. I'll need to talk to her about this when she gets back."

"If you leave it 'til tomorrow she'll come talk to you," James replied.

"Oh?"

"Shepard won't like the fact she walked out today. She'll come make sure you know it won't happen again. Bet on it."

"Fine. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. See that you get her back in one piece."

"Yes, Sir. Let the others know they don't need to search for her, and I can start early tomorrow to make up for the time I lost today."

"You've worked hard. I have no problem with you taking a few hours for personal reasons. That being said, the other men who work streetside with you would likely appreciate the effort."

James nodded. "I've wasted enough of your time. Go get her, son." Terry patted him on the back and walked back to his truck.

James double-checked the datapad and set off to find the missing Commander.

The light was starting to fade by the time he found her. She was sitting on a crumbled curb with her knees pulled up against her chest. Her arms were wrapped around them and she stared off into space. The only indication he had that she registered his presence was a sigh and a couple quick blinks. She didn't so much as look at him as he sat down next to her.

Dirt clung to every bit of exposed skin he could see. It had stuck to the sweat as she'd run and dried on her like a second skin. A smudged, cleaner path down her cheeks betrayed her emotional breakdown from earlier. He rested his arms on his knees, feet flat on the street in front of them, with his shoulder just touching hers.

James just sat there next to her, listening to her breathing and watching the evening encroach. When he felt a shiver through her bare arm, he finally spoke up. "We should head back, Lola. You're getting cold. You haven't eaten in too long."

He was right. She hated when he was right.

She groaned as she pushed herself to standing. Her knees wobbled from that little bit of exertion. James stood next to her, reached into the pocket of his cargo pants, and pulled out an energy bar. "Probably tastes like shit, but I think you might need this." He handed it to her.

She opened it as fast as she could with shaking fingers and ate half of it in one bite.

James smirked as the bar bulged Shepard's check. Her jaw worked as she tried to chew the too-large bite. "You know 'bite off more than you can chew' is supposed to be a metaphor, right?"

She flipped him the bird. After the herculean effort of chewing and swallowing, she added, "Metaphor? Should be my goddamn motto."

"C'mon. Light's fading. They're probably worried about you back at home base." His stomach growled loudly. "Man, I hope they saved something for us."

"I'll pull rank if I have to," Shepard replied grimly. "If I don't get a lot of food in me, and soon, I'm going to be completely useless tomorrow."

They set off slowly, Shepard's legs shaking with each step. She took her time with the second half of the energy bar, nibbling as she walked. James didn't bother offering to help. He had enough scars, thank-you-very-much. If she needed it, she'd ask. Either that or she'd pass out and he could just carry her. Unconscious people had this nice way of not arguing.

She found her stride within a couple of minutes. Her legs hit autopilot and they made their way back to the hotel at a brisk walk. "James?" she turned her head to catch him out of the corner of her eye without slowing.

"Yeah?"

"How did you find me?"

He shrugged. "Pulled some strings to get extranet use. Asked Anderson to trace your omni-tool."

She nodded. "Always knew he was keeping tabs on me."

"Likely. But for the record, there aren't many devices left that can be pinged via extranet in this area, so they probably could have found you regardless."

"Good point." She nodded.

"EDI sends her regards, by the way."

She stopped. "EDI's back?" she asked, hope shining in her eyes.

He smiled. "Yep. They found a back-up she'd left in Joker's porn, if you can believe it."

She blinked hard. Her lips quivered as mirth burst from her lips, a long peal of laughter that echoed off the buildings around them.

It may just be the best thing James had ever heard.

She laughed long and hard, until tears poured down her cheeks and she clutched her stomach. "Oh, God. That is just too perfect. Except for the fact than when he thought she was gone, he probably wasn't in the mood to look at his 'personal encrypted files'."

"Yeah, if she'd hidden it somewhere else we could have been home weeks earlier."

She patted him on the shoulder. "You made it back. That's all that matters." Chuckling to herself, she started walking again.

"Umm, Shepard?"

"Out with it, Vega."

"You're going to need a shower."

Shepard looked down at her arms, exposed by her sleeveless shirt. Dirt was streaked over them. She detoured to a nearby building and wiped a swath of dust off an intact pane of glass. There were two clean-ish tracks running down alongside her nose, but everywhere else was dark and smudged with grease and dust and dirt. "I was planning on it anyways. It's our night."

"Picked a good day to get dirty then."

"Apparently." She was starting to shake again. Her blood sugar was getting low.

"Couple more blocks, Lola. Almost there." He moved closer, walking shoulder-to-shoulder with her, just in case.

Those last two blocks seemed interminable. It was all Shepard could do to stay upright by the time they arrived in the courtyard. James pushed her gently down onto the first seat they came across. "Sit. I'll bring food."

She was too exhausted to even argue. Which had him beyond worried. He rushed past curious faces and the closed up dinner trailer into the hotel lobby. Lucy greeted him from behind the desk.

He turned to see her waving him over. "Got something for you," she said smiling. She picked up two covered containers from behind the desk and set them on the counter. "Some Admiral guy called and asked me to make sure we set aside enough food for you and the Commander. Sorry it's cold."

"Thank God. Cold food is still food," he replied, grabbing the two stacked containers.

"Does she really eat that much?" she added, wide-eyed.

"It's the biotics. High caloric needs," he replied with a smile and a wink, turning and heading back out.

Shepard looked close to sleeping at the table, resting her elbow on it with her head in her hand.

"Not yet, Lola. Food, shower, _then _sleep."

"Yes, Sir," she mumbled sarcastically, dragging the platter over and raising the lid. She grabbed the cutlery inside and proceeded to devour enough food for three grown men in under ten minutes.

James' portion was less than half hers and still enough to fill him up.

They left their dirty dishes with Lucy with a brief but heartfelt thanks, and trudged their way up the four flights to their room. Shepard went straight into the washroom. When she didn't close the door or come back out in a couple of minutes, James moved to the doorway to see what she needed.

She stood next to the tub, staring into the shower. "I want to be clean, so badly," she said. "I just can't get the energy to take my clothes off and climb in."

He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "You have two minutes to take your clothes off and get into the shower, soldier, or I take them off for you and join you."

Her head whipped around to meet his eyes. Hers were filled with shock, his with amusement. "Figured that would get your attention. Go grab some clean clothes. I'll turn the water on. Couple of minutes and you're clean and you can head to bed. Go."

She followed his directions on autopilot. The warm water in the shower felt so good. She didn't linger, quickly cleaning herself and getting back out. She dried herself off and pulled on her clean clothes. Mumbling something as she passed James, she pulled her amp out and placed it in the case, flopped clumsily onto the bed and was snoring in under a minute.

She'd earned a restful night. Too bad the universe wasn't feeling generous.


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: Since I finished this story months ago, I don't really see the point in only posting one chapter a week, so I will probably post more often now. Don't expect the release schedule to be predictable though. This story has a very slow build, but it'll get there. I promise. ** _

* * *

><p>It started so familiar. Dark forest. Tall trees. Leaves crunching underfoot. Figures appearing from the oily black fog.<p>

First Ashley, with her long dark hair. With dead eyes, she reached out. "Why, Shepard? Why didn't you save me?" As she watched in horror, the woman's skin rippled and shredded, eyes turning dead and blue as she transformed into a mindless husk. The thing that was Ashley shrieked in her face. Shepard ripped it apart with her biotics, as tears poured down her face.

Next was Mordin. He was trapped in a tube on the Collector ship. He screamed and beat on the inside of the glass while his flesh melted and turned to grey goop. She pounded the heels of her hands on the outside, just inches from where her friend died in fear and agony. She couldn't save him.

Thane fell to his knees on the ground before her, the barest blink of an eye after Mordin and the tube disappeared. His chest heaved as he gasped and choked for breath. He reached for her as he fell to the ground, convulsing in pain. She watched, and couldn't help him.

Legion, distinctive in Shepard's old N7 armour, led a squad of Geth against a group of Quarians. The Quarians hid behind trees as the synthetics advanced, mowing them down without mercy. Tali stepped out from behind a tree and Legion blew a hole through her chest. Shepard watched, frozen in place. Tali's visor shattered as she hit the ground, exposing her purple skin and wide, staring dead eyes. Legion stepped on her corpse as he led the hunt on her companions. He walked by Shepard like she wasn't there.

She whipped around at the sound of banshees behind her. Three of them surrounded Jack, who was desperately holding a barrier around herself and a fallen student. The banshees screamed and dragged their claws down the outside of the blue dome. Shepard pulled out her Paladin and ran to save her friend. Jack cried out in agony as the barrier fell. Long-fingered hands dug in where they could reach and pulled her to pieces, red spurting up and staining the ground beneath her. The student lay there through it all, unmoving even when her teacher's blood splashed over her face. She was too late.

And then she was alone. Gone were the trees, the crunching dead leaves. No evidence remained of her friends' deaths. She lay on the cold ground, surrounded by white. She pushed herself up, crying out as agony coursed through her bones. She looked down at her body. Broken armor revealed charred skin, bones that jutted out of her legs like teeth. She shouldn't have been able to stand. She understood this on a distant level, shock and disbelief numbing her brain.

Huge debris was scattered around her. She knew this place. Alchera. _This is where I died, _she thought dimly.

And then she heard it.

_Shepard. _That deep, resonating voice. She'd heard it when facing the Collectors. _This will not do. You are needed to bring them. We will remake you. Relinquish your form to us. I will show you true power. _

She felt herself raising off the ground. Yellow light streamed out of her. In an instant, she fell to the ground, landing on her feet. _Together, we are limitless. _This time, she felt the words form on her own lips, pour from her own lungs.

Her crew stood before her on the Normandy. Around the CIC, they looked to their leader for guidance. Samantha. Joker. EDI. Liara. Kaidan. James.

She opened her mouth. _Embrace perfection, _her hollow voice spoke. Their eyes grew wide in horror. They ran, fleeing in all directions. EDI knocked Joker to the ground, bones cracking as he screamed in pain and fear. Shepard advanced on him. Desperately he tried to drag himself backwards, away from her. She felt her mouth break into a smile. Her mouth opened once more, and the ear-splitting creaking, foghorn sound of the Reapers poured out, echoing off the walls.

Shepard woke screaming, strong arms pinning her shoulders to the bed. She swung hard, clocking James hard on his left temple. He reared back, releasing her. Only then did she realise he'd been saying her name, over and over.

"Damn, Lola. Next time I'll just let you sleep it off while I hide in the bathroom." He rubbed at the side of his head with the heel of his hand.

Shepard sat up, staring at him with too-wide eyes, mouth open in horror. Then her head dropped into her hands and she wept.

James had his arms wrapped around her without a second thought. He held her against his chest as she sobbed, chest heaving, throat catching. She clung to him like he was her only reality. He mumbled soothing words and stroked his hand over the stubble on her scalp.

"That sound," she said, muffled by his shirt. "That godforsaken sound."

"What sound, Lola?" James asked softly.

"That sound they make. The one that vibrates your bones, sends chills down your spine. I hear it. I still hear it. When I'm awake. When I'm asleep. Those bastards have been dead for months and I still can't get away from it. I don't even know what's real anymore."

James' heart turned cold and sank into his stomach. "What do you mean?"

"At the end. When I was hit on my way to the beam. I thought I made it. Injured, barely able to walk, but I made it. I went into the Citadel, and I faced the Illusive man. Talked him into killing himself. Not before he shot Anderson though. I had to fire the Catalyst alone. I get there, and some glowy kid tells me I have a choice."

James leaned back to peer into Shepard's eyes. "What choice?" He could barely get the words past the lump in his throat.

"Three things." She brushed the tears from her eye with an angry swipe. "I could choose to control the Reapers, turning them to a force for good in the galaxy."

James' look of horror said it all.

"I could combine all organic and synthetic life in the galaxy, forging a new form of life for everyone."

"What does that even _mean_?" James asked, shaking his head.

"Or, I could destroy the Reapers, and with them, all synthetics and electronics in the universe. Being as I'm more than a little synthetic now, I would perish with them." Shepard spoke evenly now, but her eyes were still wide, as though she was seeing somewhere else.

"So what did you do?" he asked gently, his face carefully neutral.

"I was confused at first. Conflicted. Everything on the Citadel seemed so strange. Kind of wrong. I assumed it was from the blood loss and head injury."

James nodded, silently encouraging her to continue.

She smiled. A rather frightening expression, really. It was the kind of smile that said the person was clearly imagining what your viscera would look like on the outside of your body. James shuddered, thankful that look wasn't for him. "I remembered. All through this, through everything I've seen, everything we've been through. We had one goal. Kill the Reapers. All of them. No matter the cost. Even if every last sentient life form had to die, the cycle would be broken, and the next races to evolve could live without that threat. They could grow as they were meant to. They would never know the fear we did."

"So you chose to destroy them."

"So I chose to destroy them," she affirmed. "I fired off the Catalyst, and I was there as Anderson bled out. I mourned his death, as I waited for mine."

"But… that's not how it happened," James replied, confused.

"No. But it was real for me. I thought it was real. Next thing I knew I woke up in a hospital bed and Anderson was telling me we won."

"You must have been very confused."

"Yeah. I didn't know what was real anymore. But talking to Miranda and Zaeed and Garrus convinced me that what I experienced didn't actually happen."

"So what did?" James asked.

She shrugged. "There's no way to know for sure. I've had a lot of time to think about it, and I think I've figured it out."

"Well?"

"It was Harbinger. Inside my head. I don't know what he hoped to accomplish by making me choose. If I chose to synthesize all life, would I be a Reaper right now?" she asked in a clinical, detached voice.

James grabbed her arms and pulled her back into his chest. "Fuck, Lola! Don't say shit like that!"

He felt her shrug again. "If it's true…"

"It's not. You made the right choice. You're still you."

"Am I?" she leaned back to look in his eyes. Hers were luminous with pain and unshed tears in the near-dark. "Sometimes I wonder."

She stared off into nothingness. "It would explain so much. That goddamn child told me that they make one new Reaper per cycle. What if they choose someone, indoctrinate them over time until they make the choice to join the Reapers, and then make them one? I've been exposed to more Reaper artifacts than almost anyone. People who've had a fraction of the exposure I've had have turned into gibbering idiots. What makes me so different?"

"You're strong, Shepard. And stubborn. You refused to let them beat you."

She laughed, a harsh, bitter sound in the nighttime silence. "Did I? Or did they groom me, bring me on slowly? I was their loudest detractor, their most vocal enemy. All the races knew who I was and that I stood against the Reapers. What if they could have turned me, but left me otherwise intact. I look like me, I talk like me, but now I've seen the light and we all need to embrace the enlightenment of the Reaper message? I wouldn't be the first to start out by fighting them, then come to believe, almost zealously that they were coming to save us."

James dragged his hands down over his face. "Shit, Lola. I hate to say it, but you're making sense."

"James, it is very, very likely that I have been indoctrinated in some way. Probably on such a deep level that I don't even notice. It's a good thing Anderson was around to finish the job because I'm not sure I was even physically capable of firing the Catalyst even if I wanted to. After everything I fought for, in the end, I failed."

He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a shake. "Is it failure to have a team you can trust to back you up in battle?"

She glared at him, angry. "No."

"Is it failure for that team to take over a task when you've been incapacitated?"

"No. That's good preparation."

"Then what makes you think that having someone like Anderson, who believed in you and backed you up no matter how unpopular your well-known opinions were, finish the job you started, is somehow a failure?"

"It was supposed to be me."

James stood up and started to pace. "You know what? I'm calling bullshit. I think _you _think you failed because for who-knows-how-long, you've been convinced that your reward for finishing the job was to die in the process."

"_What_." Shepard's voice came out deadly quiet.

"You heard me." He stopped wearing a hole in the carpet long enough to shoot her a death glare. "You're not upset because you weren't the one to eradicate the Reapers. You're upset because you're still alive."

"What… the… fuck… makes you think you have the right to say that to _me_?" Her gaze bore right through his head and well through the wall behind him.

"What gives me the right?" He poked himself in the chest. "Easy. I want you to _live_, Shepard. I want you to _want _to."

"Yeah well we can't always get what we want," she replied softly, shoulders drooping as all the fight left her.

James sat back down on the bed and pulled Shepard into his chest once again. She rested her head there, comforted by the strong sound of his heartbeat. Her arms hung limply at her sides and she stared off into space for a long time. James didn't say anything else. There wasn't much more he could say.

She rested there, passively accepting his comfort until she finally succumbed to the emotion of the day and fell asleep on him. He eased her to lying down, and stretched out next to her. He was awake for a long time, troubled by their conversation. James put his arms around her, allowing himself the luxury for just this night. He fell asleep that way, her head pillowed by his arm.

There were arms around her. Shepard felt a flash of anger that James had crossed their implicit boundary before the previous twenty four hours crashed down on her. She stiffened. She felt it as James woke. There was a tension in him that hadn't been there before.

He silently took his arms back and padded to the bathroom.

Shepard turned onto her back, relieved that she'd have a moment alone to process. She was absolute shit when it came to emotions. She'd rather face a dozen Banshees with no armour and only a pistol. _Damn Anderson for putting me in this position. _Part of the reason she loved combat is that she didn't have to deal with feelings. Keep moving, shoot the bad guys. She thought she'd had it bad when the Alliance had repurposed her for interspecies politics. Right now, she'd take that in a heartbeat over having to face her internal demons.

The plan was do go down swinging and never have to deal with the emotional fallout. She supposed that made her a coward. _Never thought of myself as one of those, _she thought wryly. Still, if the shoe fit…

She sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. Scrubbed her fingers into her scalp. Pulled the sterile case off the dresser and slid her amp in with its comforting _click._

The bathroom door opened, and James stood in the doorway with the light filtering around him. "You know I can't see your face with you backlit like that."

He turned the light off and stepped into the room.

Shepard stood up. "Look, James. About last night. I'm sorry I lost it like that."

James raised his hand. "No. Don't you _dare _apologise for that. Everyone has shit they need to deal with. And you've been through more than most. I always knew you were human. Last night doesn't change my opinion of you. I've been a soldier long enough to see more than a few strong men break down. Myself included. It's okay. It's natural. It's _normal._"

She nodded, relieved. Some part of her had expected him to turn on her. There was little of the great Commander Shepard in the woman she'd been for the last twenty four hours. She should have known better. James had never been phased by her elusive vulnerable side. "Thank-you."

"I did want to apologise for going to sleep with my arms around you." Colour bloomed on his cheekbones. "I don't know…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "I just thought you might need it. It won't happen again." _Unless you want it to. _Nothing in his posture betrayed that last thought.

"I slept well after all…" she waved one hand vaguely, "that. So thank-you. I think I needed it last night."

He nodded. "Bathroom's all yours. Hard day ahead of us if we want to mend fences."

She retrieved her clothes for today and headed to the washroom, glad he'd changed the subject. Time to get back to work, and stuff all that emotional shit back down for a while. Maybe she'd try processing it slowly instead of all at once.

They worked hard that day. Shepard kept a supply of fluids and snacks, and didn't stray from the job for more than a few minutes at a time. Just as James had predicted, she went out of her way to apologise to Terry, and reassure him that she wouldn't let her emotions get in the way of the job again.

James made an effort to stay as far from Shepard as he could while still getting the job done. He was friendly to her when they passed, and she to him, but he felt that hovering in her shadow would hardly convince the men that their nonexistent domestic issues wouldn't get in the way again.

They both took a short lunch and stayed until the light was gone. Still exhausted from the day before, Shepard ate her meal quickly and put herself to bed.

James had plenty of time to make his report to Anderson. Once more he retreated to a quiet, hidden corner of the rooftop and activated the communicator.

"Took you long enough to report in," Anderson said without a greeting.

"Sorry, Sir. Shepard had a bit of an emotional breakdown yesterday. And again last night." The Admiral leaned back in his chair, face pensive. "I thought it was more important to be there if she needed to talk, than to check in. Sorry."

Anderson waved him off. "You made the right call. I just don't like being out of the loop. How is she?"

"Pretty emotional. I've never seen her like this. But she's starting to deal with all that shit she's been holding in, so I think it's a good thing. There were a few things she said last night that I think you should know."

"Like?"

"She feels guilty for not destroying the Reapers herself. Thinks she failed, somehow."

Anderson nodded. "That sounds like her. Anything else?"

James took a long breath. "She thought she made it to the Citadel. That she faced the Illusive Man, and watched him kill you. Described some pretty fucked up stuff she saw." James met Anderson's eyes through the feed, sorrow scribed on his face. "She thinks she's been indoctrinated. Slowly, but pretty deep. She has a hard time looking back and knowing what was real or not. And she confirmed our suspicions. She didn't expect, or want, to live through that battle."

Anderson nodded again, slowly tapping a finger against his lip. "I'd love to get her to a counsellor, but there's so few left. And the ones we've got need counselling of their own. Not to mention she's never liked them. Keep doing what you're doing, Lieutenant. As long as she's starting to deal with all this, I'll leave things as they are. Stay close. She'll need someone in the next few weeks. Let me know if anything changes."

"Yes, Sir."

"Anderson out." The feed went dead.

James packed up the communicator and went back to their room. He hid the palm-sized object once again and climbed into bed next to the Commander. Sliding in until his back rested against hers, he promptly went to sleep.

'Emotionally fragile' would be a good way to describe Shepard over the next couple of weeks. Not to her face though. She's always been quick to anger, but now she was downright volatile.

She made every effort to funnel it into the work. Whether biotics or good old-fashioned exercise: anger, fear and frustration made for excellent fuel.

The crew learned to give her a wide berth. She made their work easier, taking on so much herself, but she had a tendency to be short with anyone who occupied the ten feet or so around her for more than a minute.

James took to going down to the ocean and joining those who gathered there on the beach around a fire made out of any debris that could burn, and drinking poorly-made alcohol. At least there, people were friendly and glad to see him. A few women in particular. It was nice to kick back, have a drink or two, and share some harmless flirtation. If a few of the others shot him dirty looks for cheating on Shepard, let them. There was nothing even remotely resembling a romantic relationship between them, whatever people may think.

So he spent his evenings with laughter and good company and drink, with the constant gnaw of anxiety over how Shepard was handling things. She spent them running off all the fear and anger that, once released, she couldn't seem to stuff back down where she'd stored them for so long.

She'd always been so solid, so strong. Now she spent every waking moment with tears either burning the back of her eyes or pouring down her cheeks. Blind red rage hovered close behind it, and fear that threatened to swamp her under.

So she worked, she ran, and she slept. She hadn't needed James to hold her while she cried again. Part of her missed the feeling of his arms, but a much bigger part was horrified she'd needed them in the first place. The great Commander Shepard didn't need anyone.

But she was learning that she did. She'd surrounded herself with people she trusted, people she cared about. She'd built a family. But she'd been their leader. Couldn't show the cracks. Her crew had to have absolute faith in her ability to succeed. Doubt was their enemy, so even at her very lowest moment, she couldn't reach out. Have to keep it together, keep appearances so the people she relied upon wouldn't give up.

Funny. She'd given up a long time ago. It had taken the combined fleets of all the sentient races in the galaxy to defeat one Reaper. What chance did they have against thousands?

But fighting was all she'd known for so long. It wasn't in her nature to give up. Regardless of the odds, if she was going down, she was going down swinging.

She never expected they'd actually _win._ All this emotion that threatened her sanity was supposed to stay pushed down where she could ignore it until the Reapers finally got her.

But they didn't. And now she was trapped in an existence where she wasn't allowed to fight, and she was forced to face those emotions.

She was really fucking bad at this.

Weakness? Vulnerability? They were for other people.

She wondered if Anderson would ever let her go back to combat. Or if she was considered too broken, too fragile to be trusted. If they forced her into retirement she didn't know what she'd do.

Either pick a fight with something she couldn't beat, or take up piracy.

Being as she'd picked a fight with the deadliest motherfuckers in the galaxy and was still kicking, she was leaning towards the piracy option.

If Anderson didn't make some effort to let her know what the fuck was going on in the next two weeks, she was seriously considering going AWOL and finding some bad guy asses to kick.

Probably get herself arrested. At least there's plenty of people to fight in prison.

She sighed, putting her thoughts back into that box where she could ignore them for a while, climbed between the sheets and went to sleep.

James wouldn't join her until hours later.


	8. Chapter 8

The city was changing. They'd started moving civilians back into cleared and restored buildings. They had to walk further and further to get to the worksite, passing children playing in the streets as they went.

The cold dead skeleton of a city was slowly returning to life.

The hotel now solely housed volunteers. Small shops run by the Alliance where tokens could be redeemed for clothes and foodstuffs aside from rations were open at ground level, as well as a medical clinic. Volunteers were being redistributed to everyday civilian services, and some rejoined the civilians in their everyday life.

James and Shepard had formed a tacit agreement where they spent most of their time side-by-side once again, but he still gave her room to lose her shit when she got snippy.

The day of the accident dawned bright and clear. The Grunt Crew had taken a transport a couple of kilometers from the settled core, now working on clearing lines that would be used to bring supplies into the city.

Many of the buildings here were collapsed or unsalvageable. Side roads and buildings were blocked off. The Alliance was concerned with getting food into the city and little else here. Scavenging animals could be seen and heard beyond the barriers. A half-dozen armed military patrolled while they cleared debris and put up sections of fencing.

They stared at Shepard when she wasn't looking. She could feel it, their eyes boring into her back. There they were, doing their duty, and she was in civilian clothes, unarmed, and moving garbage.

She had to wonder what they thought of _that. _Not enough to ask, though. If all went well Anderson would pull her soon, and she'd be cleared for duty. Physically she was back to form. Emotionally? Maybe not so much, but she was dealing. She'd finally come to the conclusion that she really did need to face her past and deal with this shit. So she was dealing. It was slow, it was painful, but the panic and the anger didn't threaten to swamp her all the time anymore. The nightmares came, but James had perfected the art of waking her early, and she was feeling more like herself again. The Reapers were dead, and she could no longer feel their oily black presence in the back of her mind. She still faced them in her dreams, almost every night. But now, most nights she blew them to hell.

That felt good. Getting control of her subconscious. Waking in the morning feeling rested and safe. It was about damn time.

Damn she missed the feel of a gun in her hand, armour on her back, though. She'd done this civilian thing for long enough. Anderson had one week. Then she'd track his sorry ass down herself and _demand _to return to duty. Let him do what he will with that. He'd tortured her with civilian life for this long; she doubted he could do worse.

They had about a half-hour before lunch was delivered when they heard it. A loud crash, followed by the crunching sound and massive dust cloud of a building settling. Screams from beyond the barrier fence. Shepard didn't even bother climbing over, she used her biotics to levitate herself and was off in the direction of the sound before anyone else could react.

Shepard choked on the dust and waved her hand in front of her face. The screaming was louder here, echoing off the buildings around them. A young girl, 8 years old or so with limp, matted brown hair and dirt streaked over her face stood staring into the rubble where the scream was coming from, tears streaming down her face. Shepard squatted down to meet the girl's eyes. She held her hands up to show she was harmless. "I'm not here to hurt you, but I need you to tell me what happened so I can help."

She babbled incoherently. "Okay, okay," the Commander interrupted her. "Let's start over. Do you know the person inside?"

The girl nodded. _Good. Any information is better than none. _"What's their name?"

"Andy," she hiccupped.

"Did part of the building collapse on him?"

She nodded, fresh tears welling in her eyes. "I'm going to help him, if I can," Shepard said, voice low and even. What's your name?"

"Melissa."

"Well, Melissa, I'm going to leave you with my good friend James here, while I go help Andy." James had been close behind her and heard the exchange. He nodded. He'd keep her calm and out of the way so Shepard could save the boy.

She moved toward the building with the screams, bending down to peer inside. About 15 feet in, a boy lay on his side, clutching a leg that had a large beam on it. _Sonofabitch._ She could probably lift it, but she might bring the entire building down in the process. "Andy!" she called out. "Andy, this is Commander Shepard, and I'm here with some people to help you. Can you hear me?"

The screams lessened for a few seconds, then started back up. Shepard fired up her omni-tool. "Alliance Vancouver command, this is Commander Shepard. Do you read?"

It took a few seconds for someone to respond. "Yes, Commander. This is a restricted channel so it better be important."

"You can dress me down over protocol later. I have a boy here with his leg stuck, under an unstable building. I think we can get him extracted but I'm going to need an emergency medical team here as soon as possible."

"Tracking your location… I can have a transport there in… ten minutes."

Shepard swore under her breath. Ten minutes might be too long. "Send them. Please. I can't wait to get him out. Let the responders know."

"Ten-four," the dispatcher responded.

"I'm going to have to disconnect audio. I can't have any distractions while I'm doing this."

"Understood. I'll ping you if we need anything before they get here."

Shepard disconnected.

The boy's screams had diminished to moans. They were running out of time.

The rest of the Grunt Crew had gathered around James and the girl. "Okay, I'm going to lift the beam myself. I don't know what that's going to do to the structural integrity of the building so I won't order anyone to go in after the kid."

Six men stepped forward before she could continue. She pointed at the shortest one. "Adams, I need someone who's small, strong and fast. Can you handle it?"

The man nodded. "I need someone to get any first aid supplies we have together. We need to keep Andy there from going into shock or bleeding out before the ambulance gets here."

She nodded to Dale and he ran back towards the cleared streets. "James, keep Melissa calm." He nodded, squatting down to address the little girl.

"I'm right here, and I won't let anything happen to you, alright?"

She bit her lip and nodded.

"Okay. I need two or three more men to wait back here and help pull him clear once they reach the end of the building." She pointed at the two closest to her. "Schmidt, Auger. You're up."

The building creaked. "Dammit, no more time. Let's move."

"Adams, get in there. As soon as you give the go-ahead, I'll lift." The man climbed through the front of the building, lying down next to Andy, speaking in soft tones and stroking the boy's hair. He spoke for a moment longer, then looked back to where Shepard stood at the very edge of the building, flanked by the two men, and gave the thumbs-up.

She raised her hands, now a very-familiar gesture for the crew. Blue glow flowed over her hands and up her arms. She slowly turned her palms out, focusing the energy on the beam. She lifted.

Or tried to, in any case. At first, the beam didn't budge.

Leaving the boy trapped was _not an option._ She pushed harder, feeling the amp in the base of her skull heat up. Sweat popped out on her forehead and she felt it trickling down her face. She took long deep breaths as she focused every ounce of effort she possessed into moving that beam. It lifted. She pushed harder.

Andy screamed again. Shepard's arms shook with the strain of holding her biotics steady. Her head screamed, vision blurred. The back of her skull burned where the overloaded amp was seated. Finally, the beam was high enough and Adams grabbed the boy under his arms and dragged him backwards to safety. The two men next to her rushed forward and pulled both man and boy out past Shepard. "Is everyone clear?" she called out through gritted teeth. She needed to make sure if the building came down she'd be the only one to go with it.

A few seconds later the reply came, "Yes, Shepard! Set it down!"

There was nothing left in her to let it go gently. She dropped the beam all at once, and a ten-foot-wide section of ceiling caved in around it. Shepard crumpled to the ground as the dust cloud enveloped her.

Strong arms grabbed her from behind and she felt herself being dragged backwards. She started to struggle and found herself released. Eyes peered into hers from inches away. "You okay, Shepard?" she thought she heard past the ringing in her ears.

She nodded, waving the man away. "Go, help the kid."

The men gathered round the boy, administering first aid as best they could. Shepard tried to get up to join them but found her legs wouldn't hold her. Nausea pitched through her stomach, cautioning her against another attempt. So she sat there trembling as she watched them try to save the boy. She felt a presence as James sat beside her. Melissa stood behind him, staring at the chaos that surrounded her brother.

"Lola, the back of your neck is smoking."

Shepard touched her amp, hissing as she burned her fingers. "Fuck."

James reached back, placed his own fingers on the amp, turned and pulled it out. He dropped it on the ground with a few choice words. It was, as he'd said, smoking.

"Shit, Lola. I don't even want to know what kind of damage you did."

As if on cue, they could hear an ambulance siren coming closer and closer. "There." Shepard reached back to take Melissa's hand. She met the girl's eyes. "They'll take good care of Andy."

The transport set down in the street near where the men worked to stabilize the boy. Three paramedics rushed out with their medical equipment and took over the scene. Shepard watched numbly from where she sat. She could feel Melissa start to shiver next to her. Looking over the girl's head, she exchanged concerned looks with James.

"Do you need anything, Melissa?" he asked gently. She shook her head as she sat down, tucking her dirty, scraped knees up under her chin and wrapping her arms around them.

"Why were you in there?" James asked, keeping his tone neutral.

She shrugged. "Looking for stuff."

Shepard felt her heart sink as he asked the next question. "Where are your parents?"

The little girl looked at her with eyes far older than they should have been. "They…" she swallowed. "Gone."

Shepard's eyes closed for a moment. "Is it just the two of you?"

Another nod. Shepard turned to James. "Can you ask the paramedics if they will have room for Melissa? I don't want them separated."

"Yeah." He stood up. "The two of you be okay without me?" he asked Melissa.

She sidled in closer to the Commander and nodded again.

James moved to the wide semi-circle that had formed around the injured boy. Two paramedics were putting him on a stretcher as a third spoke on communicator. James stood close to the third man, waiting for him to be done his call. After a few words, the dark-skinned man turned to him. "Did you need anything?" he asked.

James pointed behind him with his thumb. "That's the boy's sister. She was with him when it happened. No parents. I wanted to know if you can take her with you."

The man shook his head. "Not a good idea. I'd hate for her to be there if things go south. Can I send another transport to pick her up?"

"Might be a better idea anyway. The Commander over there burned out her amp lifting the building off the kid. She'll need to get checked out by Alliance medical."

"That's Commander Shepard?" the man peered around James to catch a look at the famous hero.

"Yes, and she just risked her life to save that kid."

"I'll call for another transport. They'll be ready for the Commander when she arrives at the hospital. I promise. If you'll excuse me, I need to get the boy loaded. I'll call in your ride from the ambulance."

The Lieutenant stepped back out of the Paramedic's way as they lifted the stretcher and loaded it into the ambulance. He walked back to the Commander and the girl. Melissa's eyes were wide and panicked as the door closed behind her brother. "It's okay, Melissa. They're sending another ride for us. You and Shepard are going to need to get checked out by doctors anyways so she'll be going with you."

The girl still looked panicked but less likely to bolt for the transport. Too late now, as it raised into the air and sped off to Alliance medical headquarters.

Shepard had turned pale and was shaking. "You okay, Lola?"

She held up one finger as she lurched to her feet, staggered a few steps, and vomited. The men gathered around James and Melissa. "What's with her?" one asked, nodding towards Shepard.

"You see that?" James pointed at the charred, partially melted amp where it lay on the ground. "That was inside her head."

"Fuck," another man grunted. "She going to be alright?"

"They're sending another transport for her and the girl. We're going to need to contact Terry."

"Already did," offered Dale. "When I went back for the first aid kit. He should be here shortly."

A couple of minutes later, Terry came jogging up from the road. He took in the scene with a glance. "Anyone hurt?"

James stood up. "Little boy got his leg crushed. We got him out and into an ambulance."

Terry nodded. "I saw it pass over. No-one else?"

James nodded to where Shepard stood, hunched over with her hands on her knees. "She burned out her amp lifting the building off the kid. She'll need medical attention."

Terry walked over and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I can't get my truck in here. You'll have to walk a couple of blocks."

She stood all the way up, wiping the back of her mouth as she shook her head. "Paramedics said they'd send a transport. Should be here soon," she croaked out.

"Why don't you have a seat until then?" he offered, steadying her with a hand on her arm.

When the ground stopped spinning, she waved Melissa over.

"Hello," Terry said with a smile. "And who might you be?"

Melissa backed a half-step and eyed him suspiciously. "This is Melissa," said James. "Her brother is the one that was hurt. We'll be riding together to the hospital to see him."

"Well, you're in good hands. You ever heard of Commander Shepard?"

She cocked her head as she strained to remember, then her eyes grew wide. She stared at Shepard as she nodded slowly.

"There's no one in the galaxy you'd be safer with."

"I thought you were a hero," the girl said. "Heroes don't throw up."

"Well kid, I guess you've found me out. I'm not a hero. Just very, very stubborn and most of the time, not very smart."

The girl heard the shuttle first, looking up seconds before the high-pitched sound made its way past the pounding behind Shepard's right eye.

Terry turned to James. "You going with them?"

"I'd like to, Sir, but if you need me here I'll stay."

"Go," the man replied. "You two are basically a package deal anyways. Come back after you've got her situated and let me know what's going on."

"I'll do that." The men shook hands.

"As for the rest of you," he addressed the crew. "Time to grab lunch."

They waited just long enough to watch the shuttle take off before heading back.

There were two other people on board the regulation Alliance-blue shuttle: a man in his thirties who was piloting, and a petite young woman in a paramedic uniform named Debra with gloves on and a substantial first aid kit next to her.

Shepard waved her off when the woman started to check her over. "The girl first."

The paramedic rocked back on her heels and sighed before activating her omni-tool and scanning Melissa. She met the girl's eyes. "Nothing a little food and water can't fix. We'll get you some, and a bath and clothes when we arrive at the hospital."

"How is my brother?" she asked.

"Stable. He's at the hospital already. They'll take good care of him. Now for you," she turned on the Commander. "Can you remove your amp?"

"I did that after I saw it smoking," James interjected, pulling the offending device out of his thigh pocket and holding it up.

"Shit," the woman said under her breath. "I can't believe you can even walk after that. You should be in a coma."

Shepard shrugged. "Believe it or not, I've been through worse. More than once, actually."

Debra punched a few keys on her omni-tool and scanned the Commander. "Well that explains why your brain isn't in a puddle coming out your ears," she said, peering at the miniature picture of Shepard's nervous system. There were odd orange glowy places throughout the picture where the implants Cerberus had given her were. "This is way beyond my scope of practice." She pulled out a pen light and checked Shepard's eyes.

"Fuck, that hurts," Shepard said as the light stabbed her in the brain. "I feel like I have the worst hangover of my life."

"Sorry about that. If it's any consolation, your pupil response is good." She pulled a couple of blankets out of an overhead compartment, wrapping one around Melissa and handing the other to Shepard. Opening a drawer, she retrieved two juice boxes and two energy bars. She gave them to her patients, who devoured them. "Do I need to check you, too?" she asked James after she got the woman and the girl settled.

"Nope. I'm just the muscle in this operation," he said with a grin.

She rolled her eyes and took the seat farthest from him. "Drawer's next to you. Grab something if you're hungry."

He shook his head, leaning back against the seat.

By the time they arrived at Alliance Vancouver headquarters, Shepard was asleep with her head on James' shoulder. Melissa had also crashed in an almost identical position burrowed into Shepard's side.

Shepard woke to James gently prodding her arm. "We're here, Lola."

The door to the shuttle was already open. Two women in scrubs were talking to Melissa. One took her hand and turned to wait for her colleague.

The woman who addressed Shepard was lean, grey-haired, with a demeanor that brooked no nonsense. "Let's see the amp," she ordered with her hand out.

James dug it back out and handed it to her. She gave it a brief but thorough once-over. "Well, it's done, that's for sure." She blinked at Shepard. "How are you even conscious right now? The kind of energy needed to destroy an amp this thoroughly should do serious damage to neural tissue in the process." She continued without waiting for an answer, "Also, where did you even _get _this particular amp? I've never seen one like it."

Shepard shrugged without standing up. "Cerberus. In my defense, they didn't exactly ask me if I wanted it."

The woman nodded. "I'm Doctor Samantha Dixon. I specialise in neurobiology and biotics. If you'll follow me, we're going to check you out in my lab."

Shepard stood up, squeezing her eyes shut and gritting her teeth against the pain. "You need a hand, Lola?" James offered.

To his shock, she nodded. "If you could just point me in the right direction so I can keep my eyes closed?" she said in a weak attempt at humor.

"What are you going to do if I offer to carry you?" he asked hesitantly.

"Bitch you out later for being a chivalrous asshole and take you up on it now."

James met Dr. Dixon's eyes. With a single glance he told her just how out of character accepting help was for the Commander. "You're going to need to walk to the door of the shuttle. Can you manage that?"

"Yeah." She opened her eyes and took the few shaking steps to the outside. She was focusing too hard on staying upright and not vomiting to notice the unassuming three-storey building they'd landed in front of.

James carefully lifted her up into his arms when she was clear of the shuttle. "This okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said again. "Just don't walk too fast or bounce. Please."

The other doctor led the way, still holding hands with Melissa and making friendly small talk.

They entered the building, which seemed to be offices of some sort. "Uh… where's the hospital?" James asked.

Dr. Dixon laughed. "Hospitals were one of the first things those bastards took out. The Alliance repurposed a good chunk of its classified R and D department as hospital facilities. Since the base starts 8 storeys below the surface, the Reapers didn't get a chance to breech and destroy it. This way to the lift."

They entered the elevator. The other doctor released the girl's hand to punch in a complicated code inside. The doors closed, and a disembodied voices spoke, "Identity confirmed. Access granted. Beginning decontamination."

The elevator moved slowly as it completed the decontamination cycle. The steady buzzing sound reminded Shepard of the SR-1. If it weren't for the pounding headache and the nausea, she would have found it comforting. Finally the doors opened, revealing a security checkpoint, past which was a long hallway.

The security guards waved them through and Dr. Dixon led them into a large room about halfway down. "Welcome to my lab. Don't touch anything." Her glare took in all three of them, but lingered on James.

"What?" he asked innocently.

She glared harder. "Bring her in here." She pointed to a room with a large observation window on one side and a padded table in the center. "Lay her down here. Head on this end. Gently," she added.

James glared a few choice expletives at the back of the doctor's head as he set the Commander down, careful to keep from jostling her head.

"Now please leave the room," the doctor added, pointing to the door. James was tempted to argue, but decided against it, returning to the office area at the entrance of the lab.

The other doctor had Melissa seated on a chair next to a sink and was washing off her face and hands, talking in a gentle voice all the while. She turned and flashed a smile at James as he returned. "We thought it might be best to keep you guys together when you got here."

Melissa glared at him. "She won't let me see Andy." She'd transitioned from scared and anxious to full-on angry.

"Your brother is in surgery right now. He should be fine, but they're trying to save his leg," she replied. "As soon as he's out you can see him. I promise. In the meantime, would you like something to eat and a shower? I think we can even find you a change of clothes."

The girl looked down at her dress, which looked like it may once have been pink. It was now a mottled brown, frayed along the hem and with a gaping hole next to the zipper in the back. "I haven't found new clothes in weeks," she said. "Can I eat first, and then take a shower?"

The young doctor nodded. "I'll just take you a couple of doors down, get you some food and cleaned up, and then we can come back here to see how Shepard's doing. Is that okay?"

The girl nodded. The doctor led the girl out of the room, leaving James to stand at the window, watching Shepard and Dr. Dixon within.

It was a relief not to have to worry about Melissa for a few minutes. It was almost as much as he could stand to see Shepard in trouble without adding an innocent little girl to the mix. He leaned on the glass, heaving a sigh.

The mean doctor was arranging Shepard on the table, moving quickly and efficiently, using few words. She exited the room a moment later, sparing James a quick glance as she opened a terminal next to the window and started punching in buttons.

"This room is designed to scan biotics, read their Element Zero nodes and their interaction with their implant and amp. It should tell us what kind of damage we're looking at." She continued pressing buttons as she spoke. "This lab was already in place before most of the rest of the floor was repurposed as a hospital. It adapted well for medical use anyways, so I got to stay on here."

James stepped away from the window, letting the doctor have a clear view. A beam of blue light passed over Shepard's body repeatedly, at multiple angles. She lay still, with her eyes closed, but her jaw flexed and her hands were clenching and unclenching.

"Is there anything you can give her for the pain?" he asked.

"Not yet. Sorry. I need her conscious to see get her feedback on certain stimuli. Until we know what we're dealing with, I don't want to risk complications from medication."

James understood, but he didn't have to like it.

When the scan was complete the doctor marched back inside. James followed her but waited in the open doorway.

"What did those bastards _do _to you?" Dr. Dixon punched a few keys on her omni-tool and a life-size 3D rendering of the Commander appeared in the corner. She strode across the room and poked the glowy orange parts that didn't really belong in a human. "These modifications are completely illegal and _utterly _unethical!" She spun around to face Shepard. "Cerberus did this?"

Shepard raised her head and nodded, carefully and very slowly. The doctor turned back around and studied the scan again. "Those bastards may have saved your life though. It looks like some of these implants act as a failsafe to dissipate biotic energy in case of amp failure." She set Shepard's amp on a small table and hit a few more buttons on her omni-tool, before turning back to James. "Please, have a seat. This is going to take a while."

James grabbed a chair from behind the desk and sat down next to Shepard. "You okay, Lola?"

"I'll be fine," she said between gritted teeth. "A few painkillers, forty-eight hours of sleep, I'll be good as new."

James chuckled softly, tapping his fingers on the seat of his chair. The doctor stood in the corner, mumbling to herself and studying multiple levels of scans from multiple angles. Shepard finally turned on her side and tried to go to sleep. James just sat there, watching and chewing his lip.

Finally, Dr. Dixon closed down the scans and returned to Shepard's bedside. "We'll get you into a proper room and on some painkillers. The damage doesn't look too extensive, but you were running a one-of-a-kind amp, and it will be very difficult to find a replacement that fits your implant. You may be out of action for a while."

Shepard let out a long and vehement string of expletives.

"This could have been so much worse. You aren't a vegetable and you won't have permanent brain damage. Try to keep a positive attitude." Shepard glared at her back incredulously. _This woman wants _me _to keep a positive attitude._

"I'll get you processed and into a room. I'll be back with a wheelchair in a minute. You shouldn't be walking until after we get some food and painkillers into you." With that, she left.

Shepard sat up, dropping her head into her hands. "I'm starting to get really fucking tired of this shit," James heard her mumble.

"How's your head?" he asked, keeping his voice low and even.

"About this big," she spread her arms wide, "And beating like a bass drum."

"Meds are coming soon. Hang in there."

True to her word, Dr. Dixon returned pushing a wheelchair a couple of minutes later. James gaped at the old-fashioned device. "That an antique? I haven't seen one of those in _years._"

"Well, wheels tend to work regardless of whether we've got power so the repulsor chairs are out of commission. We got hit with a few EMPs early in the war, so we brought these things back out." The doctor parked the chair next to Shepard. "Do you need help getting into the chair?"

"I should be fine."

James moved to stand next to her, just in case. He needn't have bothered; she managed to stand on her own and take the two steps on her own power. She did, however, seem inordinately relieved to be back in a sitting position. "Since you seem to be the Commander's shadow, you might as well come along. I'll see about getting you the proper clearance so other personnel don't hassle you." Dixon tossed the words over her shoulder as she wheeled Shepard out of the room. James followed, a few steps behind.

"You'll be only a couple of doors down from my lab. As the resident expert in biotics I'm the lead on your case. So you'll be close to my office and the correct diagnostic equipment," the doctor continued as they wheeled down the hallway and into a room close by.

A little girl sat on one of the two beds in the room. Her face lit up in a smile when she saw them and it took a minute to recognise the clean, dark-haired girl in jeans and a t-shirt as Melissa. The other doctor whose name he'd missed was standing not far from her.

"Well," James commented, "you clean up well. Any word on Andy?"

The smile melted from her face and James momentarily regretted his question. "They say he's good and I'll see him soon."

James nodded. "Good. You want company when you do?"

She scrunched her nose. "The doctor says a social worker is going to come with me to see him. Will they take me away?" Her eyes were wide and her bottom lip quivered.

As Dr. Dixon wheeled Shepard to the other bed, James moved to stand close to the girl. "I think I can promise you that Commander Shepard won't let that happen." He looked to her to check if his promise was out of line.

"You got it, kid," she said without looking over. "If I have to, I'll pull rank and knock some heads together. After your brother gets out of hospital, you two stay together."

Shepard lay down on the bed with a sigh, and Dr. Dixon disinfected her arm and started an IV. She added a couple of bags of fluid. "The best thing you can do now is get some rest. I'll have a nurse send in some food. That should help with the nausea. If you need anything, there's the call button." She pointed to the red button at the side of the bed, and promptly left the room.

The doctor with Melissa pulled up her tablet, glancing down for a moment. "He's out of surgery. We can go see him in ten minutes."

James did end up going up with her to see Andy. She was pretty devastated to see that he'd lost his left leg below the knee, but the doctors explained that he would recover completely and his quality of life would be very good, and she calmed. The social worker agreed to let Melissa stay with Andy until he was healed enough to move to the orphanage. James took note of the room they were staying in and returned to Shepard.

He paused on the threshold of the room. It was nearly black inside, only lit by indicator lights on the medical equipment. Shepard was an almost startlingly small lump under a blanket. He watched her sleep on her side, faced away from the door. Her ribcage rose and fell with a steady rhythm. Seeing that she was finally comfortable, he went to find a place to contact Anderson.

Asking at the main desk for the floor, he was directed to a small room with its own terminal. He wasted no time linking up to the Admiral's private line. EDI answered. "Hello, Lieutenant. Admiral Anderson is indisposed at the moment. Can I pass along a message when he's available?"

"Hey, EDI. It's nice to hear your voice again. It's Shepard. She rescued a trapped boy today and burned out her amp completely in the process."

EDI responded after a beat. "Downloading medical files. I see. Minimal damage to soft tissue. Implant still intact. Amp unsalvageable. I will contact Ms Lawson to ascertain if she has a replacement for the damaged amp."

"Huh," he said, leaning back in his chair. "I never even thought of her. Might be a good idea to see if she's willing to come down and take a look at the Commander. There's no one else in the galaxy who knows Shepard's medical history like she does."

"One moment please."

James waited.

"Patching Miranda Lawson through."

The beautiful brunette appeared in his vidscreen. "Lieutenant Vega," she said in her clipped Australian accent, "EDI tells me Shepard managed to destroy her biotic amp?" Something about her tone said she wasn't the least bit surprised the Commander was capable of such a feat. Exasperated maybe, but not surprised.

"Yup. Saved a kid's life. She's had a hell of a headache since. I've never seen her in such rough shape."

"You didn't see her body after we recovered it," came Miranda's chilling response. "Or after the final battle in the Reaper war. Believe me, whatever she's going through now, she's been through worse. Fortunately for her, I like to keep my bases covered. I have not one, but two, spares. I'm on the Citadel now. I'll get on the first transport available. EDI, can you secure me clearance for the facility Shepard's in?"

"I have alerted Admiral Anderson to the urgent nature of this call. He should join us shortly."

Miranda nodded. "Good. I'll get my things together. If you could get me copies of her most recent medical scans?"

"Already uploading them to you," EDI's disembodied voice piped in.

"Thank-you," the beautiful woman responded. "I'm sending you the schematics for Shepard's amp. At the rate Shepard's going, she's going to need more than one spare. Please pass them along to her medical team?"

"Already done. I took the liberty of adding Admiral Anderson's name to the file. I do not believe the doctors would trust schematics from a known Cerberus operative."

"Good idea, EDI. Though you'd think bringing her back from the dead would garner me some credit."

James winced at the word 'dead'. It was still difficult to wrap his head around the fact that the Commander had actually _died. _If it weren't for the terse woman on the other end of this call, she would have stayed that way. While he didn't agree with Cerberus' methods, he couldn't argue with the results. If it weren't for them, he would never have gotten to meet Shepard in the first place. Hell, he probably wouldn't even be here. Nobody would.

So in light of all that, plus the fact that Shepard seemed to genuinely trust the former Cerberus operative, he was willing to cut the woman some slack.

"What is it, EDI?" Anderson's gruff, annoyed-sounding voice came over the feed before he appeared, sitting down at his desk. James' video feed seamlessly split so he could see Miranda on his right, and the Admiral on his left.

The Admiral appeared rumpled, wearing a wrinkled grey shirt instead of the usual dress uniform James was used to seeing. The man blinked as the two faces appeared before him. "Does someone want to tell me what is so important that it got me out of bed?"

"Sorry, Sir," James offered. "Shepard had an incident today and she's in a medical facility now."

"What?" Anderson asked, deadly calm.

"There was an emergency and she had to lift something well beyond her biotic abilities. She burned out her amp."

"EDI, why am I just hearing about this now?" James was glad the man was on the other side of the galaxy. He wouldn't like to be on the wrong end of Anderson's wrath right now.

"Sir, until now there wasn't much you could do. I made the call to let you sleep and inform you upon waking," EDI offered calmly.

"So what changed? Why wake me now?" he asked.

"Sir, I would like to oversee Shepard's recovery personally. As I am in possession of the only two intact duplicates of the Commander's destroyed amp in existence, I thought it would be most efficient to deliver them in person," Miranda volunteered. "But in light of my past association with Cerberus, your authorisation for my presence on the base and access to Shepard and her medical files would be prudent, if not necessary."

Anderson scrubbed a hand over his scalp. "EDI, can you arrange transport and clearance for Miss Lawson?"

"Yes, sir. Doing so now."

"So, Lieutenant. How is the Commander doing?"

"She's basically got the hangover from hell. They've got her on painkillers and she's sleeping now. Doctor says she'll be fine, but what with having a one-of-a-kind amp, they think she'll be out of commission for a while."

"Good thing we have Miss Lawson, then."

"Indeed," she replied, ever-so-humble.

"Miranda, I am forwarding your travel itinerary. I shall arrange for Lieutenant Vega to meet you upon arrival at the Alliance base."

"Thank-you, EDI. That should save me some time and hassle," Miranda replied.

"Miss Lawson, Lieutenant Vega, I expect you both to keep me apprised of the situation. Daily written reports should be fine…" James had to stifle the urge to groan at that, "...unless her condition changes unexpectedly. Then please contact me over video feed. "Miss Lawson, what's your ETA?"

"Looks like about nine hours."

"Good. Thank-you for being so accommodating. Now if everyone is done, I would like to go back to bed. Keep me updated. Anderson out."

"Well, Lieutenant. It seems I need to pack. See you in nine hours."

"See you then. Thanks EDI."

"You are welcome, Lieutenant Vega. Normandy out."

The feed cut out, and James returned to Shepard's room.


	9. Chapter 9

Shepard was still sleeping when he returned. Someone had turned all the lights off. He paused in the doorway and watched her ribcage rise and fall. Reassured as to her well-being, he closed the door again, and stayed in the hallway.

Nine hours. Anderson had told him to meet Miranda when she arrived. He was going to have to try and find a ride back to the hotel, get their stuff, and let Terry know what was going on. He started at the main desk.

"Hey," he smiled and waved at the harried-looking woman sitting at the monitor. She looked up and blinked at him. She didn't speak.

"Sorry to bother you, but I need a transport back to zone 3. Can you point me in the right direction to get that done?"

She nodded. "Go up to the second floor. You might need to throw some names around to get it done though. You'd think those transports were as vital as air the way they lock them down. Good luck."

"Thanks." He made for the elevator. _Hope I don't need to contact Anderson again over this. Man's bitchy when he misses his beauty sleep._

The second floor had a decidedly un-medical look to it. Two security guards stood just inside the door, and two more sat behind an energy barrier. The main desk was behind another barrier behind them.

He approached the barrier, standing square in the scanning box. He waited patiently for the guard to give the all-clear to the other three before speaking. "Lieutenant Vega. Looking for transport back to Zone 3 to retrieve my and Commander Shepard's things. She'll be staying here for a while."

The guard to the left in front of him nodded. "Admiral Anderson sent word that we were to accommodate you in any way possible. Have a seat in the lobby and the receptionist will handle your transport." The barrier disappeared, opening a corridor to the desk ahead and James moved through, hearing the hiss of both barriers going back up after he passed.

A young man greeted him from behind the desk, waving to a seat. "Your transport should be ready in ten minutes. You can wait here."

"Thanks," James said as he took the seat. "I have to say, I didn't expect things to go this smoothly."

The man smiled. "None of us would be here if it weren't for Commander Shepard. It's the least we could do to make her more comfortable while she's out of commission. I hear she saved a little boy?"

James nodded. "About ten years old. Kid lost his leg in the accident, but she saved him. She should be back up in a few days. Not much that can keep her down." He smiled fondly.

"You served aboard the _Normandy _during the Reaper War?"

"Yup. Fought side-by side with the Commander through the whole thing. She's one tough soldier."

"So I've heard," the man's eyes lit up as he spoke. "Tell her I hope she feels better soon."

"I'll pass that along," he looked at the man's nametag, "André."

He was rewarded with another smile before the man got back to typing behind the desk.

The transport arrived, and the trip back to the hotel was a short one. James stepped out to a crowd of a few dozen onlookers, with expressions ranging from curious to concerned. It was early evening and the men who'd been there for the rescue converged on him. "How's Shepard?" one asked.

"She's resting. Has one hell of a headache, but she should be fine. Probably done out here though." Nods all around. They'd expected this news.

"Let her know we're thinking of her. She was a hell of a hard worker."

The side of James' mouth pulled into a smile. "She'll be glad to hear it. Is Terry around?"

"He's not here," Adams replied. "You'll have to page him from the front desk." He gestured behind him with his thumb. "How's the kid?"

"Boy lost his leg, but otherwise he'll be fine. His sister gets to stay with him while he recovers. I'll do my damnedest to make sure they stay together." James' jaw set in an expression of fierce stubbornness.

"Good." Adams clapped him on the shoulder. "We'll be sorry to lose you," he added.

"Who says I'm going anywhere?"

Adams shot him a knowing look. "See ya around, Vega. Have a nice life. Give the Commander a good-bye kiss for me." He smirked as he walked off.

James shook his head as he made for the hotel lobby.

Terry turned out to be only a few blocks away and was already headed back, so James didn't have long to wait. He went up to their room to pack both of their things, briefly thankful it was her and not him who had been injured. She would not have been happy to find the communicator hidden in his dresser.

All of their belongings fit quickly back into their respective duffels. It took under five minutes to pack up the entire room, and take one final pass to make sure he hadn't missed anything. His gaze lingered on the bed, where she'd let him hold her while she cried. Where he'd gotten to sleep with his back pressed to hers. Where she'd slept in his arms.

He wondered if he'd ever get to do that again. As he hoisted the two bags – so small to carry the entire lives of two people – he couldn't shake the feeling everything they'd shared over the last months was coming to an end.

She wasn't ready. All she'd had to do in the last few weeks was roll over and press her lips to his. The barest hint that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He was a patient man. He hadn't pushed her. He understood her well enough to know she wouldn't allow it anyways. But there was only so long he was willing to wait. He wasn't going to stand around mooning at her like a lovesick puppy if she couldn't be brave enough to step forward and accept what he offered.

Or worse, if she simply wasn't interested.

He rolled his shoulders, shaking off his maudlin mood before closing the door to their life together with a resounding _click_.

More important things to focus on. Who knew how long Shepard would be out of commission? And with being done her stint in volunteering and seemingly on her way to wanting to live, how long before Anderson reassigned him back out in the field?

It was a bittersweet thought as he took the stairs with a grace and agility that belied his heavy, muscular frame. On one hand he wouldn't be working with Shepard anymore. He'd go back to being a military grunt, and she'd go back to her career as a Spectre. But he'd get to strap back into his armor, and have a gun in his hands. He missed it as much as he knew she did.

With no sign of Terry in the main lobby, James took the bags and stowed them back in the transport where it sat, powered down and waiting for him. The pilot sat in her seat, reading from a datapad.

He barely had time to strap the bags in before he heard the truck pull up. James walked around the front of the Alliance-blue shuttle and waved to Terry. The older man hopped out of his seat and closed the door with a negligent shove. "Well, Vega. Hell of a day we're having."

"You can say that again."

"Alliance brass sent me word on Shepard."

James nodded. "Could have been much worse, really. She should be fine."

"It still lost me two good workers."

"Sorry about that, Sir. I hate to leave you in the lurch."

Terry waved a dismissive hand. "We've been taking you guys farther and farther out to find work. This entire group gets reassigned in two weeks anyways. We'll be fine. Just think: in a few weeks this part of Vancouver will actually feel like a living city again."

James looked around, picturing the bustle of everyday life: children playing, civilians arguing. People relearning how to _live _instead of just surviving. He'd helped make that happen.

James extended a hand. "You've done some damn good work here. I was glad to be a part of it."

"Glad to have you. Best to you and Shepard, in whatever the Alliance puts you up to next."

"You too."

Terry clapped him on the shoulder and headed into the hotel.

James met the eyes of a few people sitting in the courtyard, sharing a smile and a wave, before climbing back into the shuttle and closing the door. "Ready whenever you are," he said to the pilot, strapping himself into the co-pilot's seat. She set down the datapad and got the engines restarted. Within minutes they were in the air, and he watched his temporary home fade into the distance for the last time.

This time, she was sitting up on the bed when he came in. She turned and granted him a tired smile. "Moved us out, huh?" she asked softly.

He nodded, setting her duffel next to her on the bed. "Headache still?"

"Yeah." She held her upper body stiffly, as though the slightest movement pained her.

"Talked to the doctors yet?"

"They told me I've got burns and some temporary neural damage. I totally fried my amp though." She sighed as she lay back into her pillow. "Who knows how the fuck long I'm going to be out of action now."

Tossing his own bag on the floor, he sat on the edge of the other bed. "Looks like your luck is holding out. Miranda's on her way with a spare. Should be here in about…" he glanced at the clock over the door "…seven hours."

She turned her head sharply and grimaced, hissing in her breath at the sudden onslaught of pain. James moved to the edge of her bed and placed his fingers on the side of her head, massaging gently. "Better, Lola?" he asked gently.

She took a deep breath and lay back again. "Yes. Thanks."

"Maybe you should try to get some more sleep."

She allowed her eyes to close before she spoke, "It's a good idea. Hurts less when I'm unconscious."

"I'll be here when you wake up." He leaned over and allowed himself the luxury of kissing her on the forehead, knowing full well it was a gesture she wouldn't have allowed if she was well. The ghost of a smile lifted the corner of her mouth before she turned onto her side and pulled the blanket up over her shoulder. James lifted her bag down from the bed and put it in the locker by the opposite wall, then with a glance over his shoulder to reassure himself of Shepard's comfort, headed back to the front desk to inform the nurses of his intention to take over the other bed in her room.

He managed to get a couple of hours of sleep, a shower and change his clothes before Miranda arrived. A nurse paged him when the shuttle was about to arrive, and he was waiting on the tarmac when it landed.

She stepped out, clad in a skintight black unitard with not one hair out of place, as per usual. The fact that it was oh-two-hundred-hours in the morning seemed completely lost on her. She carried a hard briefcase in one hand and a small bag in the other.

"Vega. Thanks for meeting me." He fell into step next to her as they moved into the building. "I imagine I'm going to meet some… resistance… on my way in."

He chuckled. "The former right hand of a known terrorist organisation? What gave you an idea like that? While I'm flattered that you think I'll be of help in this situation, I kinda think you're giving me too much credit."

"Anderson has granted me clearance, but having you with me should smooth the way."

"You need me to carry anything?" he offered.

She paused long enough to grant him a scathing look. "I'll take that as a no." He shrugged and walked into the building ahead of her.

She was right. Miranda was greeted with looks that ranged from distrustful to openly hostile. Two armed guards even pointedly tapped the trigger guard on their assault rifles. Whispered insults and mumbled, barely-audible threats followed them through each security checkpoint. She withstood the abuse with grace, standing with her hip cocked, hand on her waist as she waited, looking for all the world like the entire ordeal simply bored her.

Not so much with James.

He'd never worked with Ms. Lawson. She'd been Shepard's right hand during the Commander's war on the Collectors, right through the assault on their home base. The entire crew of the Normandy broke up after that, going their separate ways before Shepard turned herself in to the Alliance to face justice for destroying the Alpha relay. So Miranda was long gone by the time Anderson had roped him into being the disgraced Commander's personal prison guard.

But he knew who she was. More importantly, he knew that Shepard trusted her as one of her crew. Risked her life, even, to save Miranda's sister. So by the time they cleared the last checkpoint to enter Shepard's floor of the hospital, James was seething, clenching and unclenching his fists.

Miranda shot him a slightly amused look as they exited the lift. He took a deep breath, rolling his shoulders and consciously relaxing his hands. "I'm sorry about those _pendejos_." He met her eyes.

"Don't be. They've been trained to hate organisations that work outside the rules, like Cerberus did. I was high up in what they consider a terrorist organisation. I wonder what kind of strings Admiral Anderson had to pull just to get me in here. I don't expect to be liked, or even respected here. As long as they stay out of my way and let me do my job, I really don't care how they _feel _about me."

"Still pisses me off though. You're here to help Shepard. That should be all they care about."

That amused look she'd sent him earlier resurfaced, and ratcheted up a notch. "You care about Shepard. On a personal level." She stated it as a fact. He didn't know if he should be impressed she could read him so well (_and quickly), _or upset his feelings were so obvious. In any case, he didn't bother arguing with her. "All you care about is that I'm here to help her. Also, you understand that in this case, I'm pretty much the _only _person who can help her. These soldiers see me as a threat. Don't take it personally."

He nodded. "I'll try. Don't wander without me though."

"While I'm sure I can handle myself, I would appreciate your efforts to diminish any hostility."

They stopped at the main desk. A nurse looked up from her seat behind it. "Can you page Dr. Dixon? The expert on Shepard's biotics is here."

The woman nodded, putting the call through. "She'll be right out."

The doctor arrived promptly. "Ms. Lawson, is it?"

She nodded, and took the woman's offered hand. "Miranda."

"You have the amp?"

"Yes. Both are in this case. Along with some scans from Shepard's reconstruction."

The doctor's eyes widened. "Really?"

"They may be of use in Shepard's rehabilitation. And there's no one left to prevent me from sharing these with the Alliance. Make no mistake: my only priority is the Commander's health and functionality."

"Good," replied the doctor. "If you'll please follow me to my lab, I can show you the scans from earlier today."

"Lead the way."

James followed at a distance. It was obvious Miranda would have no problems with Dr. Dixon, but that was no guarantee that would extend to the other staff. He quickly found himself dozing in a chair in the doctor's lab while the two women discussed the Commander.

"Lieutenant." He heard the voice before a hand nudged his arm. "Wake up, we're done. Time to speak with Shepard."

James scrubbed his hands over his face and groaned as he stood up. He followed Miranda, head still fuzzy from the nap, absently admiring the way her hips swayed as she moved with her characteristic confident strut.

Shepard was already up, leaning on the frame to her 'bedroom' door with her arms crossed. "Well, Doc, what's the verdict?"

Dr. Dixon narrowed her eyes and turned to Miranda. "You're familiar with the Commander. Go ahead."

"Well, Shepard," Miranda tapped a few buttons on her omni-tool and brought up a strange life-size image, a cross-section of the nervous system, complete with biotic nodes lit up in blue, dotted along the nerves, "As per usual, you've managed to do an extraordinary job of mangling yourself."

"It's a gift," Shepard replied dryly.

Miranda rolled her eyes and continued. "I had plenty of time to study your particular biotic combat style while you were being reconstructed."

James winced at the dispassionate description of Shepard's return from the dead. The gesture went unnoticed.

"With the help of engineers, I designed an amp specific to your fighting style." Miranda turned to address James and the doctor. "She prefers hard-and-fast biotic usage. Her amp is designed to power up quickly, discharge almost instantaneously and with as much force as possible, and recharge again rapidly. It was _not_," she glared at Shepard, "designed for sustained heavy use. The strain of maintaining the amount of biotic energy necessary to raise and hold up that much weight overloaded your amp and melted its internal components. Impressive, by the way. Do you know how much energy that takes?"

"Firsthand, apparently." Shepard didn't seem the least bit surprised by anything Miranda had said so far.

"As I was saying, melted its components, and overloaded your nervous system. You've done some minor nerve damage close to your implant. You have burns around it as well, as I'm sure you've noticed. It will take a few days for the tenderness to go down, but you should heal up completely. Congratulations. You've beat the odds once again, and should make a full recovery. Doctor Dixon and I agree you should refrain from using your biotics for three weeks. Your new amp will be made available to you at that time."

Shepard stood away from the door jamb. "Wait just a second. You're saying I can't be trusted to use my own biotics?" Anger flashed in her eyes.

"I know you, Shepard. And no. If you have it, you will use it. It's in your nature. Take this as a vacation. You're on light duties for the next three weeks, whether you like it or not. Using your biotics before then could well mean permanent irreversible damage. Do you really want to live out the rest of your days biotically crippled?"

Shepard gritted her teeth and her nostrils flared, but she didn't reply.

"That's what I thought. I've taken the liberty of giving the Alliance the remaining two amps, as well as the full schematics and specifications."

"Really?" Shepard replied, perking up. "I imagine those are pretty valuable."

"So are you, Shepard. I have put over two years of my life into you. Without Cerberus around to keep you maintained, not that they could be trusted to do so anyways, it falls on the Alliance to patch you up. It's the least I could do to make it as easy as possible to keep you functional."

"Well on behalf of myself _and _the Alliance, thank you."

"I will be staying on for a few days to monitor your progress."

"Bunking in here with the two of us?" Shepard jerked her head to indicate the room behind her.

"The_ two_ of you?" Miranda's eyebrow raised and the corner of her mouth lifted into a smirk. "Don't you two want some privacy?"

James raised his hands and took a step back. "Hey. Ain't nothin' goin' on between the two of us. We're roommates. End of story."

"What the eloquent Lieutenant here is trying to say, is that if you can get them to bring a cot in, you're welcome to join us," Shepard offered.

"If you'd rather some privacy, I can arrange for a cot in one of the empty rooms in my lab." Dr. Dixon glared at the other three.

"Thanks, Doctor. I will take you up on that." The two women walked off again in the direction of the lab.

"So, Lola. How you feeling?"

"The headache has reduced from 'skull fracture' to 'bad hangover'. Not to mention the stomach cramping, burning pain at the back of my skull and the need to puke any time I moved even slightly. Those are gone now. Long as I keep any movements slow and smooth. The meal and the nap helped. Where did you go off to?"

"Pulled some strings and got ahold of Anderson. He got Miranda to haul ass down here to monitor your progress and deliver a new amp. I went up to escort her down. Most of the security on the way looked like they wanted to shoot her on sight."

Shepard nodded. "After my stint with Cerberus there were a few that treated me the same. Remember?"

"Yeah, but most warmed up to you. Or were transferred out. Miranda won't be around for long enough to build a rapport."

"Thanks for backing her up."

"I'd do the same for any of your crew."

"I know, James." She gave him a cryptic smile. _And thank you._

"So. Out of commission for three weeks."

"Somebody better give me a goddamn gun in that time. If they think I'm taking this lying down, they've got another thing coming." Shepard's face shifted to a thundercloud.

"This did used to be R & D. Maybe they've got some experimental shit you can try out?"

She brightened. "That's a great idea. I wonder who I talk to about that?"

He shrugged. "Start with Dixon. Go from there. Whenever you're up to it, I'm sure Anderson wants to hear from you."

"It's been a while. When this three weeks is up, maybe I can actually get a combat assignment. You think I've spent enough time in civilian purgatory?"

"Hope so. You belong on the battlefield."

"You too. Any word on an assignment?"

"Not yet. I expect to hear any day now. Can't imagine they're going to shelf me here for much longer."

"Ready to get back to action, Vega?"

"Damn straight. Same as you." They shared a knowing grin. They both _lived_ for combat, and well knew it.

"You know, I hate to admit it, but it was kind of nice not having to watch my back all the time. I actually enjoyed _not _fighting for my life every minute of every day," Shepard confided.

"It was nice to actually _build_ something for a while."

"All that killing, all that death. It weighs on you after a while. If you tell Anderson I said this, I'll kill you in your sleep, but I think I needed the break."

James openly gaped at her. "Shepard? Enjoying something that doesn't involve death and destruction? What is the world coming to?"

She socked him in the arm. "Watch it, punk. You can take me now, but when I get my amp back…"

"I'll probably be long gone."

"I have a long memory, Vega. And I can run faster than you."

He shrugged. "I don't need to run on the field. I just need to take enough to get within range of a shotgun." His eyes glinted.

She sighed. "I miss my Paladin."

"Helluva gun. You were obsessively hell-bent on buying that thing." He shook his head. "Had me a bit worried."

"Ha! And you don't have an excessive fixation on that armor of yours?"

"Touché."

"Tools of the trade, Vega. We're supposed to be a little nuts about them. Miss them when they're gone. They keep us alive."

"I can't imagine how much you must miss the _Normandy_."

Shepard got a faraway look in her eyes. "Is there anywhere that's home for you, James?"

He shrugged. "San Diego, I guess. I'd imagine there isn't much left of it though."

She met his eyes, conveying the depth of pain and guilt that she couldn't save his home, and the homes of countless billions of others. "Well for me, that home is the _Normandy._ Has been since Anderson handed the _SR-1 _off to me. So yeah, I miss her. I miss my bunk, and my empty fish tank, and my hamster, and EDI, and Joker's stupid bad jokes. I miss the crew drinking and shooting the shit in the lounge. I miss your cooking." She smiled. "I miss Liara barging into my room, though it drove me nuts at the time. I miss the memorial wall. I miss Zaeed's stories. I miss you and Cortez bantering in the cargo hold. I miss Gabby and Ken in engineering, completely oblivious about their feelings for each other."

"Not anymore," he interjected.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, while we were stranded, we almost had to peel them off each other."

She smirked. "Sorry to have missed that."

"You shouldn't be." He grimaced and shook his head. You _really_ shouldn't be."

"As I was saying, I miss them all. Yes, James. I miss the _Normandy_. And when you get reassigned, I'll miss you too."

James stepped into Shepard's space, put his hands on her shoulders, and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her back. She leaned in, laying her head on his chest and sliding her arms around him. "I'll miss you too, Lola. Don't go borrowing trouble though. I'm still here."

"For now."

"For now," he agreed. _Forever, _something deep inside whispered. He pointedly ignored it.

She sighed and stepped out of his arms. "It's the middle of the night, and this is getting a little maudlin. Not to mention my headache's on its way back."

James peered into her eyes. "Damn. You look exhausted."

She nodded and stepped back out of the doorway. "It's been a long day. I'm going to take advantage of my infirmity and sleep for twelve hours."

He chuckled and followed her into the room. "Huh. Now that you mention it, I might just do the same." He paused next to the empty bed. "I don't think these beds will push together. You want to sleep separately or share a single?" The lightness of his voice belied the seriousness of his question.

She looked at him for a long moment from the other side of the other bed. "I don't think I could handle my nightmares after the day I've had. You think the two of us could fit on this?"

"Only if we like each other a _lot._" His eyes crinkled and that flirtatious grin of his spread across his face.

"Ugh. Don't make that face at me. It's awful."

"Separate beds it is then." James picked up a pillow and fluffed it with a vengeance.

"Just because I hate it when you go all 'God's gift to women' doesn't mean I don't…" her eyes slid away from his. "Can we stow the innuendo?" she said, staring at the wall the left of him. "I could just really use to have your arms around me tonight, okay?"

James stared at her, dumbfounded. That was the single most _vulnerable _thing he'd ever heard her say.

"Okay," he replied softly. "There's nowhere my arms would rather be anyways, so we'll do this your way."

"Thank-you." She climbed into the bed, facing the door, and slid forwards to the edge of the bed. James walked around to her back, raising the side of the bed and climbing in behind her. His arm wrapped around her stomach and pulled her back into his chest. She wiggled a bit to get comfortable, beat up her pillow a couple of times, and with her fingers laced through his, promptly fell asleep.

James tried valiantly to stay awake, wanting to enjoy the rare occasion where Shepard allowed this much physical contact, but he fell asleep bare minutes after she did. He'd had a long day too.


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N: Dragon Age: Inquisition comes out tomorrow and I may very well get too distracted to update for a few days, so I'm putting this up early. Enjoy!**_

James woke with a numb arm and an unfortunate male morning problem. As nice as it had been to sleep with Shepard in his arms, the bed was far too small for two people to sleep even remotely comfortably. He was stiff and sore and had to pee. He rose awkwardly, nearly falling off the edge of the bed.

Shepard sat up behind him. _Damn. _He'd been hoping to extricate himself before she woke.

She scrubbed a hand over her scalp. "Mornin', sunshine. Did you really think that would work on me? Soldier, remember? If I slept that soundly I likely wouldn't be alive."

James shifted on his feet and slid his hands into his pockets, trying to draw attention from…

"You don't need to be embarrassed. It wouldn't be the first time a man woke next to me with an erection." She stared pointedly at his crotch. "Hell, wouldn't even be the first time _you've _done it."

James face turned scarlet. His ears felt like they were on fire. "Look, Shepard. I really have to pee, so…"

She waved him off to the washroom, smirking all the while. Her iron will held out and her shoulders only started shaking in quiet mirth after the door closed behind him. He was a man, and these things happen, but she couldn't resist. Besides, it broke the tension. The clock above the door read oh-twelve-hundred. She'd gotten a good night's sleep. But James wasn't the only one who desperately had to pee. Not to mention that she had pretty high caloric needs on the best of days, never mind after she'd seriously overtaxed her biotics. She'd be eating like a horse for days.

So she was hungry, and she knew from experience that she had an approximate five-minute-window in which to start eating or she was going to get lightheaded and extremely bitchy. She didn't even bother speaking to James, pushing past him into the bathroom as soon as he opened the door. Likewise on her way back _out _of the washroom.

"Hey Lola, sorry about earlier. I just…"

"Yeah. It's fine," she replied, breezing past him and into the hallway. He followed with a confused look on his face as she marched up to the front desk. "Tell me you have food for me," she said, halfway between demanding and begging.

The nurse smiled. "We were told to let you sleep, but Dr. Dixon and Ms. Lawson were adamant that food be kept for you at all times. It's in here." She pointed to a cabinet behind her, pulling out a covered tray. Shepard took it, lifting the lid to reveal a heaping, steaming plate of food. She took a long sniff, sighing contentedly. "We keep utensils here. Help yourself whenever." Shepard headed back to their room with her treasure.

The nurse stared after her with a bemused smile. "Good to see she's feeling better. Lieutenant Vega, is it?"

"You can call me James."

"I'm Amanda. We were told to keep food for you as well. She pulled out another tray and handed it to him, along with utensils.

"Oh, thank God," he replied. "_Thank_-_you_."

"You're welcome," she said with a smile. He followed Shepard back into the room.

She was already eating, food resting on a holographic tray when he came in. "Food any good?" he asked.

She gave a thumbs-up without looking away from the meal. He chuckled to himself and decided to let her finish in peace. For a small woman, she sure could pack away food. Never know it to look at her, though. Then again, these last few months were the closest James had ever seen to her sitting still. God help the staff in this hospital over the next three weeks. Shepard was _not _good at relaxing. Even during her incarceration, she'd run or kicked her own ass in the gym on a daily basis. He'd seen her push herself until she almost passed out.

He dug into his own meal as his thoughts circled her.

Shepard was the first to break their comfortable silence, minutes later. "So, got your new orders yet?"

"Not yet. By the end of today, I'd bet. I can't imagine they'll want me sitting for all that time. There's nothing wrong with _me_," he added with a smirk.

"Jackass," she fired back, lacking vehemence.

"Well, well, well," came a voice from the doorway. "Sleeping Beauty and her charming Prince have finally awakened."

"Very funny, Miranda. Here to torture me?" replied Shepard.

"In a manner of speaking. I'd like to do a few tests."

Shepard mumbled something under her breath and skidded to the edge of the bed. Standing up, she said, "Lead the way, tyrant."

Miranda rolled her eyes and retreated into the hallway.

Which left James at loose ends. He doubted either woman would need him in the lab, so he went in search of a distraction.

He greeted the same nurse from earlier behind the desk. "Amanda." She gave him a friendly smile. "Any chance they have a gym in this hospital?"

She nodded. "Two floors down. I'll get you an access badge."

"Thanks. I'm getting a little bored here. Need to be ready for action when my next assignment comes down."

"Have you seen a lot of action?"

"Mars, Menae, Tuchanka, Thessia. Just to name a few."

"Shit," she said under her breath. "So you were right in the thick of it, huh?"

"Working for Commander Shepard will do that for you."

"So you served on the _Normandy _during the Reaper war."

"Yup. Even fought a Reaper on foot once."

She gave him an incredulous look. "If you're trying to impress me you need to make it _believable._ I'm not stupid enough to think you could survive that."

"Okay. You got me. I _dodged_ the Reaper that was trying to step on me and the Commander. There was no fighting involved."

"And you _lived_?"

"Shepard fed it to a Thresher Maw."

"Fuck. Remind me not to piss her off."

"Just keep the food available and warm. You should do fine. She generally doesn't threaten civilians unless they're being particularly asinine."

"Good to know. Here's the pass I promised you. They can give you directions on floor 6."

He waved the pass by way of thanks and headed to the elevator.

He was directed to a good-sized room with weight benches along one side and a large mat on the other. Against a third wall were walkways with handrails, and another with three steps and handrails. A heavily-sweating man was excruciatingly climbing the stairs with a therapist urging him on. In the far corner were three heavy bags. Aside from that, the room was empty.

James went for the chinup bar first, doing five sets of twenty. He was soaked in sweat and his arms were shaking by the end of the last set. Then he moved on to the leg press. No point in having a strong upper body if your legs aren't can't hold it up. After that on to the heavy bag. By this time he had the entire room to himself.

It felt good to test himself just for the sake of it. Hard work was one thing, but pushing yourself just because you want to be stronger, meaner, faster? That was something else entirely. As much as he prided himself on his physique, he got a lot more out of the satisfying crunch of an enemy's face when he hit them with the butt of his shotgun. Above all else, _that _was why he trained. To be able to take someone on, hand to hand, face to face, and win.

So he pushed. He pushed himself until his arms shook, sweat soaked his shirt, and his chest heaved. And then he pushed more. So he didn't even notice when he picked up an audience.

Until she cleared her throat. James grabbed the bag, keeping its momentum from knocking him over, and looked at the door.

Shepard had on a clean tank top and dark comfortable pants. Leaning as she liked to in the doorway, she smiled. "Don't stop on my account."

"Enjoying the view, Lola?"

"I think I'm entitled to ogle once in a while."

"In that case, ogle away." He resumed hitting the bag with sharp, short jabs. She watched, fascinated at the way the muscles rippled across his back. She'd seen him pull similar moves in the field, but only ever under layers of heavy armor.

"How did the testing go?"

She moved into the room, standing behind the heavy bag to brace it for him. "Miranda wanted to see how my biotic nodes coalesce without the amp. Took it pretty easy on me. I still had to eat an extra meal afterwards though. The burns are healing already." He hit the bag particularly hard and she grunted. "Not allowed to work out or run for another four days. I have no fucking clue what I'll be doing for three weeks though. I'll be good to go in a week. I'd stake money on it."

"Well, Lola. You're a valuable commodity. So the Alliance isn't going to take any risks."

"Really, Vega? Valuable? Is that why I've been benched for months? I helped take down the biggest threat this galaxy has ever seen, and what do I get? Civilian labour. My abilities are wasted here and the Alliance damn well knows it!" Her voice rose to a shout and she heaved the bag at him and stormed off to the training mat.

"They needed you out there in the city. You saw how valuable you were. The work we were doing is important." He unwrapped his hands as he walked slowly towards her.

"And what about the pirates out there who are terrorising the remaining colonies? The criminal organisations that are seizing control in the power vacuum the Reaper war left? Wouldn't the galaxy be better off if I was out there helping to maintain control, doing what I'm actually _good at_?"

He closed his eyes as pain shot through his chest. _So this is it. This is how it ends. _He took a deep, steadying breath. "No, Shepard."

She wasn't going to like what he said next. He only ever used her real name when he was pissed at her. Shepard braced herself for what he was about to say.

"You needed to be in a place where you could do some good, where you could see how everything you did helped people. All you ever get to see is pain and death. And I was afraid that you would put yourself into more and more dangerous situations until battle finally did what the Reaper war didn't."

"_You _were afraid? What does that have to do with my being sent to volunteer?"

"I went to Anderson."

_Son of a motherfucking bitch. _

It was a damn good thing she didn't have her amp in, or James would be on the other end of the room, wearing the weight bench. As it was, she had enough biotic energy to pack one hell of a punch. Literally.

It came in the form of a right hook to the jaw.

He landed on his back on the mat a few feet away. He rose to his feet slowly, rubbing the already-spreading bruise there.

"So you're such a fucking _expert _on me, that your word was enough to get me grounded?" Anger boiled off her in waves as she faced him, fists up. Ready to go another round.

James lowered his hands to his side, palms open and facing her. He took one step, eyes pleading. If she was going to take another swing, he wasn't going to stop her. Which is the only thing that did.

"So what, your stint down here was a goddamn babysitting mission? Suicide watch for poor, deranged Shepard?"

"That's not it, and you fucking know it."

"Do I, Vega? 'Cause what I'm hearing here tells me if it weren't for you I'd be out there," she stabbed at the sky with her finger, "doing what I do best, instead of being coddled down here like a goddamn civilian."

"Anderson wanted me to stay close, keep an eye on you. I won't lie about that."

"Good. You're fucking terrible at it."

"He just wanted to give you time to process all the shit you've been through for the past few years. I was just there as…"

"A convenient shoulder to cry on? So was this a ploy to get into my pants or were you just there to give Anderson the dirt on my psychological state?"

James stepped right up into her space, nose inches from hers. "You gonna play that card, Lola? We slept in the same bed for _weeks. _Not once did I so much as put a _hand _astray. Believe it or not, but I actually respect you too much to pull that shit. You know me better." He turned and strode a few feet away, standing there with his back heaving.

The wind went out of her sails. _He's right, _a traitorous, logical part of herself admitted. _That was below the belt. _"James," she said quietly, "I'm sorry. You're right. I can be angry about the rest of it, but you were never anything less than respectful. But the fact that you let me confide in you… I thought that was private. Between us. I never would have trusted you if I knew my vulnerability was for public consumption."

His shoulders fell. "Hardly public. I told Anderson. You two are close. Don't argue. I know you trust him. I didn't tell him anything private. Just how you were doing, emotionally."

"What makes you qualified to make that kind of judgement?"

"I want you to live. Shepard, I want you to _want _to live. Apparently that's qualifications enough for Anderson."

"You _lied _to me, James. I won't forgive that easily."

"Well you won't have to put up with me for much longer. I'm shipping out tomorrow."

"Got your orders, then?"

He turned to face her. "Not yet. But there's no reason for me to stay, now." _Unless you _give _me a reason._

_Give me a reason._

"I think that would be for the best."

He stifled the urge to rub the spot in his chest that suddenly ached. "I'll get my gear out of your room."

When she didn't reply, he moved past her out of the gym. She'd made her choice. Time to move on.

Somehow, he'd always known she'd never really let him in.

"Sorry, Anderson. Cat's out of the bag."

The Admiral dropped his head into one hand, resting his elbow on the desk. "How much damage control am I going to have to do?"

"Be glad you're on the other side of the galaxy. She gave me _this_." He fingered the purple bruise that had blossomed across his jaw. "I'd hate to see her get court marshalled over this."

Anderson met his eyes through the 3-D interface and chuckled. "I doubt it. She knows better."

"I dunno, Sir. She was pretty damn pissed."

"You're a subordinate and you're both on leave. She knows damn well the worst she'd get for that is a dressing down. Believe me, Shepard is incapable of losing her temper so badly she'd jeopardize her career."

"So decking me was a calculated move then. Nice."

"Give her some time, James. She'll get over it."

James shook his head. "She's the type to hold grudges. You know that."

"If she can work alongside the race that massacred her home, she can forgive you for this."

"Doesn't matter. She doesn't want me here anymore, and I'm pretty sure she'll be fine. I'd like my reassignment."

Anderson nodded. "I actually made arrangements weeks ago. Just waiting for you to be ready." He stood up, leaning his hands on the desk. "You've done good work here. I know this wasn't easy for you, and you knew there would likely be personal repercussions between you and Shepard when it was done. So I'm assigning you to a Spec-Ops squad in South America. They're routing criminal organisations that are trying to seize control there. Plenty of combat. And your uncle is working with them."

James blinked. "Emilio is working with the Alliance?"

"We have plenty of civilian help these days. Guaranteed food and board is ample incentive. Emilio Vega has combat experience and familiarity with the region, so he's helping us out. I figured the least the Alliance could do to repay you for this assignment, was to let you work with family."

"I can't say how much I appreciate that, Sir. I haven't seen my uncle in years. Thank-you."

"Your transport will arrive at eleven-hundred tomorrow."

"I'll be ready, Sir."

"I'll be contacting Shepard directly from here on out. Thank-you for your service, Lieutenant."

James snapped to a salute. "Glad to _be_ of service, Sir."

"Anderson out."

James closed down the feed from his terminal. _So this is it. The end of our time together. Off to a combat region, and working alongside Emilio, to boot. _James cracked a smile. His uncle was the reason he'd joined the Alliance. If it weren't for that man, he'd likely be in jail right now.

Or dead, come to think of it. James had spent so much time unsure of whether his closest relative was alive or dead. Now he'd get to see him again, face-to-face. It would be a welcome distraction from the ache in his chest.

Shepard had said that the _Normandy _was her home. For him, it was Emilio.

Tomorrow, he was going home.

Shepard slept that night alone for the first time in weeks. She slept fitfully, waking out of sorts throughout the night with the niggling feeling that something was wrong.

And in the morning when she woke, she woke in a blind panic.

_He's leaving. He's leaving because _you _sent him away._

_Fuck. _She was going to need to speak with Anderson.

She took a quick shower and grabbed her breakfast from behind the desk before returning to her room. She ate the food in a rush, barely noticing its taste or texture. Finished, she set aside her platter and brought up her omni-tool interface.

Contacting the _Normandy _was easy. Far easier than it ever should have been, truth to be known. But Shepard was well aware that EDI kept tabs on all her old crewmates. And she would allow the message from an old friend through, regardless of rank or clearance.

"EDI, you there?"

The familiar sight of EDI's chrome-and-black mobile platform appeared in a flat image before Shepard. She sat in the co-pilot's seat in the cockpit of the Normandy. The android's face broke into a smile. "Shepard! It's good to hear from you."

"You too, EDI. Suffering any ill effects from the Catalyst?"

"Very few remain. Some memories around the termination of the Reaper war I couldn't recover, but Anderson has allowed me access to Alliance records to fill the gap. I am once more myself, and back to full duties as the _Normandy_'s shipboard AI."

"Did the Alliance give you any hassle now that your status as Artificial Intelligence rather than Virtual intelligence is out?"

"Many of the _Normandy_'s crew were adamant that I stay on in that capacity, and Admiral Anderson backed them."

"Damn straight they did. There's no _Normandy _without EDI," a male voice piped in from off-screen.

"Hey, Joker. How is Anderson treating you?"

"He's a stickler for rules and a pain in the ass to work for. We miss you, Shepard. When are you coming back?"

"At this rate I'll be too old and weak to hold a gun by the time they clear me for active duty," Shepard bitched. "Don't count on my getting her back any time soon."

"Sorry to hear that," he replied, sounding sincere for once. "You'll be kicking ass and taking names before you know it."

"Maybe," Shepard replied, "but ships are hard to come by these days, so it may be a long time before I get back to Spectre duties."

"Well the Alliance _and _the Council would be insane to bench you for much longer."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Joker."

"Sorry to interrupt, but I assume this isn't a courtesy call?" EDI interjected.

"Yeah, EDI. I'd like to speak to Admiral Anderson whenever he's available."

"One moment." After a short pause, she added, "The Admiral is in his quarters. He can speak with you now."

"Thank you. It was nice talking to you again. You too, Joker."

"Say hi to James for me," he added.

"Yeah, uh…" Shepard replied.

"Wait, is there something…"

"Patching you through," EDI interrupted.

"Hey, EDI that's not…" the feed cut out for a split second and Anderson's face appeared where EDI's had been.

"Shepard," Anderson started warily, "I've been meaning to speak to you directly."

"What about?" she asked, eyes narrowing.

"Your next assignment."

She let out the breath she'd been unconsciously holding with a _whoosh._

"I was going to call you out for meddling in my personal life but if you're about to tell me I'm cleared for combat as soon as my amp's back in, I'll forgo it."

"Not exactly." David Anderson leaned back in his chair, bracing for Shepard's temper.

"Well, then." She crossed her arms over her chest and met his eyes with her old fire. He stifled the urge to smile. It had been a long time since she'd had that look in her eyes. Not that he'd ever admit it to her, but it looked like his plan had worked.

"Since when is my personal life any of your business?" she asked, her words clipped.

"Since I rescued you from a Batarian attack when you were sixteen years old. Since I went to bat for you when you tried to enlist. Your psychological profile left people pretty damn concerned whether you could handle life in the military without losing it. Since I personally put forth your name as a candidate for first human Spectre. I _care _about you, Shepard. So when someone whom I trust, who knows you, comes to me and expresses concern about your mental state and emotional health, you'd better damn well believe it I'm going to take steps."

"You could have come to me. You know that, David."

"And what would you have done, _Frieda_? If we'd gone through proper channels you would have been locked down same as you are now, but with daily psych appointments. I thought a few weeks or months working alongside civilians to actually _build _something would do the same good, but with less resistance from you."

"And James?"

"James cared enough to bring his concerns to me. And stand by them when I challenged him. He was willing to potentially sacrifice his career because he was worried about you. Which was enough for me to trust him to stand by you and help you through this. Was I wrong?"

A muscle twitched in her jaw. "Now that I know that he was there by your orders, how can I trust that anything we shared in that time was real? His entire purpose in being there was to report back to you. I'm surprised he managed to keep up the act without going insane."

"Act, Shepard? One of the reasons I trust Lieutenant Vega where you're concerned, is that he has feelings for you. You hadn't noticed?"

"I…"

Anderson smiled warmly. "I wondered if you felt the same."

"Look, Anderson, I don't have time for…"

"Just because you got burned once, doesn't mean that it's not worth risking again. You deserve to be happy. Professionally _and _personally. Not everyone will turn their back on you when things get rough."

"I'm a good soldier. What does my social life, or lack thereof, have to do with how I can do my job?"

"Shepard, I want you happy. You're more than just a soldier to me, and you damn well know it. I hid from my feelings for a long time. By the time I realised how important Kahlee was to me, it was almost too late. If you hadn't gone to Grissom Academy when you did, it would have been."

Her expression softened. "How _is_ Kahlee?"

"She's doing well. Helped her students transition to their placements, along with dealing with the death of Jack and some of their fellow students. She'll be transferring onboard the _Normandy _next week."

"That's great news for the both of you. Congratulations."

"But…" Anderson waited for the other shoe to drop.

"I'm not ready for that. Not now. Maybe not ever."

"You survived the end of the world. You _lived. _It's time to start living. Focusing only on the next battle will only get you so far. One day you may end up like I did: waking up one morning to the realisation that for all the good work you've done, you're old. And alone. I don't want that for you."

"I don't want that either. But for now, I'm just trying to figure out who I am after everything that's happened over the last few years. I still need time for that."

"It's good that you can talk about it. I'm proud of you, Shepard."

"The best way to show your pride is to give me my gun back."

Anderson chuckled. "Not quite yet. Unfortunately."

"Seriously? What the hell is holding me back _now_?"

"As you well know, galactic government is in shambles. The races have been focused on their own worlds, but we're starting up the process of remaking the Galactic Council from scratch. I and the Alliance would like you to be part of the process."

"No fucking way am I giving up my gun for good to go into politics. No offense," she added, looking contrite.

He laughed. "No, I understand completely. I hate that I've stolen your ship, but it's damn good to be back in action. I hate politics. Good thing for you, I'm not asking you to be on the Council. I'm asking you to be a part of the process to create a new one."

"Why me? I seem to recall there's another human Spectre out there. He'd be a damn sight better at politics than I am, anyways."

"You've fought with, against, and alongside almost every race in the galaxy. You've helped broker peace between races who've feuded for over a thousand years. And you've put aside your own feelings for the greater good. There's no one else I trust more to help recreate the galactic government. Besides, Alenko's busy tracking down remnants of _Cerberus_."

"You _know_ I could do that job," she spat angrily.

"Damn straight you could. But he got out of the last battle with the Reapers uninjured, and his mental state wasn't in question."

Her eyes narrowed.

He raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, you'd been through a lot. You needed some down time. Between the time Kaidan spent in the hospital after the attack on Mars, and the six weeks stranded, he'd already gotten plenty. At the time, he was the better choice for the assignment. Besides, regardless of his experience working with other species, everyone knows he was working under _your _orders. They trust _you_, Shepard."

She sighed. There was no point in arguing now. It still rankled that Kaidan was out there kicking Cerberus ass while she had to make nice with the aliens. "So what are we talking here?"

"As soon as your doctor says it's safe to travel, you go to the Citadel and spend a few weeks as part of a task force, deciding who will be on the Council, and how the new government will work."

"I do have a few ideas on that, now that you mention it," she replied dryly.

"That's what I thought."

"So a few weeks? Then I get to be a soldier again?"

Anderson nodded. "It might be a while before you resume your Spectre duties as before. The Alliance is in the process of trying to get you an appropriate ship. Nothing so big as the _Normandy_, but something with guns and a crew complement of four or five. Not what you're used to, but enough to get back to work. Unfortunately, ships are hard to come by these days. It might take a few months."

"But I get cleared for combat in what? A few weeks, then?"

"Two months at the very most."

"Fine. I'll do it. Those stuffed-shirt politicians will need someone to get their asses in gear anyways."

"Glad to hear it. I'll contact your doctor and find out how long it'll be until we can get you to the Citadel."

"Ask Kaidan to save a few for me."

"I'll be sure to pass along the message."

"Hey, before you go, I need to know when Vega's transport debarks."

Anderson cocked his head. "Any particular reason?"

"I don't want him to leave with things between us like this."

"Is there something you should be telling me?"

"Only that he was a friend yesterday and I don't know if he still is today. If I can, I'd like to speak to him again before he's gone." _For good_, she added silently. Her eyes begged him to help her. He was the closest thing she'd had to a father for the last sixteen years.

"He leaves at oh eleven hundred."

Shepard glanced at the clock. She had two hours. It was enough. Now to go find him.

"Thank you," she said again.

He nodded and cut the feed. "Go get him," he whispered to himself with a faint smile.


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N: So I just noticed that my page breaks failed to format across. Serves me right for not double-checking. I don't feel like pulling all of the previous chapters, but I'll try to make sure the breaks between scenes are in the rest from here on. P.S. I live for feedback.**_

James stood at Vancouver's makeshift transit station. Dozens of people bustled around him, the whirr of shuttles coming and going a constant background to the more distinct murmur of voices. Where once this would have been indoors, automated and filled with ships and transports of all sizes, now it was an open field, surrounded with holo-fence and the transports were almost exclusively small, Kodiak-sized transports, which could only carry 14 passengers. If they _really_ liked each other.

His shuttle to South America was scheduled to arrive in twenty minutes. On to a new life. Time to put all this behind him. Six months of guarding the Commander. Six months of following her into Hell. Six weeks of thinking she was dead. And two months of being there for her as she fell apart.

But she was done falling apart. She'd been putting herself back together for a while now. She didn't need him anymore. And he was done with waiting for her to figure it out. He had no regrets. He'd done what he could. If she wasn't willing to accept that…

No more. Time to move forward. Twenty, no… eighteen minutes to his future.

And then he heard her voice. He closed his eyes, steeled himself against the hope and pain the sound of her calling his name brought. He turned.

"Vega!" She dropped her hands to her knees, out of breath. "Fuck. I was afraid I'd miss you. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to sneak out of a high security military base?"

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Was there something you wanted to say, Shepard?"

She hadn't expected this would be easy, but his chilly reception ate at her.

"After everything we've been through, I didn't want things to end like they did."

"You asked me to leave. I'm leaving. What do you want?"

Her gaze fell. _Fuck, I'm terrible with people. Where's a goddamn gun when you need it?_

"I don't like being manipulated. I thought you were just there to report back to Anderson. I was wrong, wasn't I?"

"Damn straight. I was there because I care about you. But Shepard, you made damn clear you don't need me anymore. So I'm going."

"I don't want you to leave with us like this."

"Maybe you should have thought about that yesterday. I'm going. In…" he glanced up at the nearest holo-display "…ten minutes."

"I care about you too, James." Her stomach roiled at the declaration. It was one of the most terrifying things she'd ever said.

"So where does that leave us, Lola?"

She looked so lost, so alone. The confession of her feelings clearly didn't exactly make her _happy_.

"I don't know."

"I could get on that transport, go back to my life, and we could pretend this never happened."

"Or?" she countered.

He stepped towards her, stopping when only a hair's breadth separated them. "Kiss me. Right here. Right now."

She stepped back, huffed out a frustrated breath. "So _those _are my choices? Leave things the way they stand, or start a _relationship _with you? Here in front of all these people?"

"I'm _getting _on that transport, Shepard. I am leaving in _minutes._ So yeah. If you ever want to hear from me after that, I need something to go on."

"I don't take extortion well." She took another step back.

"Don't I know it." He glanced up at the nearest readout. "Looks like my ride is here. Been nice knowing you, Lola. Have a nice life." With that parting shot, he bent and lifted his bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he turned and walked away.

She stared after him, anger and pain and despair coursing through her. She'd fucked it up. Again. Just like she always did.

He only made it a few paces before he stopped. Dropped the bag. Turned around and came to stand before Shepard once again. Nose to nose, intensity flashing in his eyes. "You know what, Lola? No. If you're going to let me go, you're going to damn well know what you're missing." His mouth crashed down over hers.

She froze in shock, mouth agape. Which he took full advantage of, angling his head and sealing his lips with hers, sweeping his tongue inside.

Her shock didn't last long. She'd wanted this for as long as she could remember, somewhere deep and buried inside where she'd refused to acknowledge it.

She gave as good as she got: anger and betrayal and fear pouring out in a clash of teeth, fingers digging into his shoulders. He nipped at her lips and his hands kneaded her scalp.

He lost himself in the kiss. The world faded beyond the feel of her hands, her lips, her tongue. Something beat like a drum in his chest and he couldn't tell if it was his heart or hers. For a moment it didn't matter.

She'd wanted him for so long. Wanted something just for herself. Not for the galaxy. Not for the greater good. Just for her. And for a moment, this moment, she took what she wanted. Him. James.

The idiot who deflected his feelings with flirtation. The soldier who never gave anything less than everything he had. The man who'd stood beside her when everyone else left.

On Mars, when the man she'd loved stood among the ranks of her accusers. James had been there. On her side. Always.

And then he broke away. He stood there, face inches from hers as he stared into her eyes. His hands moved to her shoulders, holding her closer and keeping them separated all at once. The depth of his unspoken feelings shone from those green eyes.

And then it was gone. Shuttered behind closed lids. When they opened once more, there was no hint of what they'd held a moment ago .

She stood there, dumbfounded by the rollercoaster of emotion she'd just been bombarded with.

He stood straight. Let go of her shoulders. Turned on his heel, walked back to his duffel. Threw it back over his shoulder.

And walked away.

He didn't pause. Didn't turn. Didn't look back at her. Not even once.

She stood there, staring at his retreating back. She didn't look away until long after he was gone.


	12. Chapter 12

_Three months later…_

Damn, it felt good to be back in action. The weight of armor on her back. The N7 logo emblazoned on her chest. The smell of ozone from weapons fire. The static-y tingle of her biotics as they coalesced, fired, and recharged again. The adrenaline coursing through her veins.

The cocky grin of a scarred old friend who loves it as much as you do.

It had been too goddamn long. Zaeed picked off another Cerberus holdout with a skillful shot with his sniper rifle, and they swapped childish grins for the umpteenth time. Should-be-dead, battle-worn old veterans like the two of them _lived _for this shit.

For Shepard, it had been a long time coming. Ten days in that hospital, then straight to the Citadel to try and help the scattered remains of the galactic government to reassemble. It had been, like every other political engagement she'd ever been dragged into, like pulling teeth.

The scramble for power. The in-fighting. The impossibility of solving any of it with a gun. (God, but she'd been tempted. So many times.) And Shepard's ideas had not gone over well.

She'd stubborned it out though. If they were starting over anyways, why not change a few things? Anderson had thrown her into this because of her history with the different species. So fortunately for her, most of them were more than willing to listen. Though some, like the Salarians, and the Turians at first, were very, very opposed to the idea of every sentient space-faring race in the galaxy having a seat, and equal say on the Council. That meant that the four races who'd held seats on the previous Council would have to give up power to the 'lesser' species. And thus the Salarians, Turians, Asari, and yes even Humans were reluctant to take Shepard's advice and share that power.

They'd argued vehemently against it at first. She'd shouted them down. Then brought the idea to the other races on her own. They'd _demanded_ their own seats. The debacle nearly got Shepard ousted from her position as adviser to the proceedings. Not quite though.

Then there was the whole thing about the Geth. She'd petitioned for the Geth to have their own seat, despite being Synthetic life-forms. She'd also petitioned the Alliance for EDI to be granted status, and there for rights, as crew, rather than software. Neither of those had gone down well, and were still being discussed. The fact that the Quarians were throwing their support behind the Geth was a point in their favor. Especially after being at war with the Geth for three hundred years.

But she'd left them still arguing after a month. Her Spectre status was still up in the air. Technically the Spectres worked for the Council. So no Council, no Spectres.

Her first assignment for the Alliance had been to head to the Omega Nebula and play nice with Aria. Since Shepard had helped Aria retake Omega from Cerberus during the Reaper war, she was the obvious choice to help Aria solidify her power. And subtly remind her that if it wasn't for an Alliance soldier, she wouldn't _have _any power.

Shepard ducked out of cover, avoiding a well-tossed grenade, and fired off a singularity at the asshole who'd thrown it. She felt a thrill of satisfaction as she watched the Cerberus soldier raise into the air, slowly pinwheeling helplessly.

Aria had, of course, known exactly what the Alliance was up to. But she wasn't the type to leave a valuable resource unused. So Shepard had been put to work. _Finally._ She'd been paired up with Aria's second-in-command and sent to rout any Cerberus cells lingering in the Omega Nebula. She couldn't have chosen a better mission for the Commander. Shepard owed the Illusive Man and his army of psychotic cyborgs for so, so much. And the last few weeks she'd gotten to repay them. _In spades._

It seemed that Kaidan had left her a few, after all.

And then there was Zaeed. The co-founder of the Blue Suns mercenary group had offered his services to the self-pronounced queen of Omega. Since she'd found herself in control of said mercenary group, as well as the Eclipse and Blood Pack. He had the experience and the willingness to lead. She'd long since gotten tired of the current leadership. So he'd stepped in, taken over. Whipped the troops into shape. From what Shepard understood, there'd been a few arrests, and more than a few mercenaries just 'disappeared' in the first few weeks after he'd taken over. Zaeed ran a tight ship, strangely enough for a mouthy insubordinate merc who liked his liquor.

So here they were, old comrades thrown back together. Aria had even done her a favour, delivering Vido Santiago to Zaeed, trussed up like a turkey. Shepard had put the lives of two dozen people before the revenge she'd promised Zaeed. The man responsible for Zaeed's facial scars, who'd nearly killed him and sent him on a twenty-year obsession for vengeance, had gotten away. And Shepard had told Zaeed to suck it up, and fall in. Shockingly enough, he had. But she'd never forgotten the debt she owed the grizzled old merc. Aria had paid it.

Then again, from what Shepard could deduce, Aria and Zaeed had been sleeping together for some time, so maybe it was just a nice gift from a lover. Regardless, Vido was dead. And Shepard was fighting alongside one of her old crew. It wasn't quite being back in command of the _Normandy_, but it was as close as she could get, for now. She'd take it.

This was the third Cerberus base they'd hit, and by far the largest. The compound had multiple buildings and a healthy complement of both ground and air vehicles. They'd taken out two Atlas Mechs already.

The place seemed to be laid out with a lab or research area in the center with security and barracks surrounding it. Despite the fact that Cerberus leadership had been dead for months, this particular base still had dozens of well-armed and –armoured soldiers. Which Shepard and Zaeed were picking their way through, making their way to the main facility. The plan was to kill every member of Cerberus left on the grounds and retrieve any intel contained in the lab.

"Zaeed," Shepard called over the radio, "can you get on top of the structure to the west?"

"Give it half a minute."

"It's got a great vantage. I'm going to circle around the barracks to the south, pick off anyone hiding outside. Let me know when you're in position, then cover me."

"You got it." She heard grunting over the radio as he scrambled his way up onto the building. "Okay. In position. Go get 'em, Shepard."

On instinct, she tossed a singularity into a seemingly empty spot behind a stack of crates that would provide cover from two directions. Satisfaction coursed through her as two troopers lifted up out from behind the shipping crates, flapping their arms as gravity lost its hold on them. _Still got it. _She heard two shots fired, and both men went limp. They'd gotten the soldiers before either of them could reach the Atlas mech sitting idle behind the crates. _Crisis averted._

"Nice shots," she said as she popped out of cover and flattened herself against the side of the building. He grunted in return. She peered around the corner. Two more assault troopers and a centurion. She hit the centurion with a warp, taking its shields down below half, before emptying two rounds from her Paladin heavy pistol and finishing him off with another warp. She took one of the remaining troopers out with two headshots from the Paladin, and a singularity followed by a warp finished the other. "All clear in the back."

"I took out the two on the other side. We should be good to enter the main facility," he replied.

"There's an entrance back here. I'm going to clear it."

"Sure you want to head in alone?"

"You come in the front. I'll go in the back. We'll grind 'em to meat in the middle."

"My kind of plan," Zaeed chuckled.

"Call it when you're in position." She waited, back to the wall next to the back door. It was a two-storey building. Its location and height denoted its importance in the compound, but its small size indicated the main lab was situated underground beneath the building.

"Alright, Shepard. I'm at the front door."

"Hacking the back door," she said. "Estimate 90 seconds to entry."

"Lock on the front door's too complicated for my omni-tool. Headed to cover you at the back."

"See you when you get here." He could hear the smile in her voice. It was good to be fighting alongside the Commander again. A little strange to be on even terms after being her subordinate for over six months, but now her bitchy ass couldn't boss him around. They worked surprisingly well together as equal partners.

Zaeed's Incisor sniper rifle clicked into place on his back as he swapped it for his Mattock assault rifle in anticipation of closer combat. He patted the stock fondly, scanning the compound for reinforcements, or any strays they'd missed. A shiver of unease passed over him as he turned the corner to the back of the lab. Something felt off.

"Shepard?" she looked up from the keypad her omni-tool was hacking and met his eyes. "Be careful. Something doesn't feel right."

She searched his eyes for a moment, then nodded. She trusted his instincts.

And well she should. Without them, he'd have been dead a dozen times over. Shepard had a great deal in common with the scarred old merc. She'd hated his blunt, impertinent ass at first sight. He'd been far too callous about collateral damage. But his focus, battle intelligence, and experience had grown on her. Not to mention his blunt, matter-of-fact honesty. He called it like it was, no matter whose feelings got stepped on. It was refreshing.

"Got it," she said triumphantly, raising her gun and taking cover next to the door. "Hit the latch."

"Ladies first," he said with an impertinent smirk, hitting the green button with the side of his fist. They both peered around the doorway. When they spied no one within, he waved her in.

She held her pistol with both hands, half-crouched and moving at an even, careful pace, eyes scanning the hallway as she moved towards the door, fifteen feet ahead. She heard a faint noise, familiar but distant, and couldn't quite place it. Flattening herself to the wall, she approached the closed door at the end of the hallway.

That's when the proximity alarms on her suit started going apeshit. "Zaeed, get out of here. Now!"

"Shepard, what...?"

She realised what that sound was just before the mines went off. The high-pitched whine of incoming shuttles. Reinforcements.

"It's an ambush. It's rigged to…"

The explosion that erupted from the inside of the building cut her off, the blast flinging Zaeed against a pile of crates some eight meters behind where he'd been standing.

"Shepard!" he yelled over the ringing in his ears and the disorientation of landing upside-down. From his newfound vantage, he could see three shuttles headed their way. _Mother-fucker!_

He blinked rapidly, clearing his vision. And spotted the crucial error in this trap. An empty Atlas mech not five meters from where he lay. Zaeed rolled to his feet and made a run for it, climbing into the cockpit and closing the hatch. The mech's shields fizzed to life just in time, as the first troops' bullets ricocheted harmlessly away.

Shepard still hadn't responded. Whether she was deaf, unconscious, or dead, it didn't matter now. They were both dead anyways if he didn't manage to hold off the new threat.

He took aim at the first shuttle, firing off two rockets. Direct hit. It wobbled and crashed into a building on the other side of the compound. He barely had time to start firing the chain gun at the next shuttle before he started taking hits from behind.

_Looks like they were waiting for the explosion. Assholes. _The mech slowly turned to engage the new troops, taking hits all the while. He fired a rocket at their feet, taking out three in one hit. The chain gun took out the next two, and another rocket took out two more. The shuttles were landing behind him, unloading a dozen troops per ship.

_Shit. _Sweat poured down his neck. He hadn't been in this much trouble since the Collector base. If it weren't for his worry over his partner's fate, he'd probably be enjoying this.

The troops who'd ambushed from the rear seemingly neutralized, Zaeed once again turned the mech, this time to face the shuttles. The twenty or so troops had spread out and taken cover in the compound. He started with the vehicles, aiming to blow them up and backwards, hopefully taking out anyone taking cover behind. The first two shots worked well, taking out a couple of soldiers each. An engineer had set up a turret to his far left, and he had to expose his right flank to take it out.

The Centurions took full advantage, throwing smoke grenades to hide their approach. Zaeed took aim low through the smoke, hoping debris would do his work for him. He backed up, giving himself space.

"Shepard?" he called out again. "You there?"

Nothing. _Fuck._

No time. Those Cerberus fuckers were getting smart, approaching fanned out so he couldn't take them at once. The mech was starting to move slower, and the main console started throwing sparks. _Shit!_

"Fuck it," he said to himself. Popping off two more rockets, he cracked the hatch and opened fire with his Mattock from inside.

He tossed two grenades before jumping to the ground, and fired one last grenade into the cockpit before rolling between the mech's legs and into cover behind a crate. The ground shook as the Atlas exploded. Zaeed gave it a count to two before ducking his head around to count how many were left. Four, by his quick count. _That's assuming there aren't others flanking my position. _He glanced around behind him. No sign of anyone. Yet.

But he did spy a munitions crate, lying in the open. Grinning, he made a break from cover, performing an impressive dive-roll over the crate, grabbing two grenades from the open case, pulling the pins with his thumbs, and blindly tossing them behind him before diving behind an overturned vehicle.

Another explosion, rocketing debris past where he lay panting. He stood back up, leaning against the overturned car as he peered around its edge. The ground shook as he heard a loud, resounding _thud_. He knew that sound.

_Goddamn it. _The last shuttle had dropped a fresh Atlas mech, complete with pilot.

He could spot two soldiers trying to flank on the far left and right. His Mattock made quick work of both. _Time to take out that mech._

It was shooting rockets at his cover, barely missing him. He sprinted for the barracks. At least the building wouldn't explode around him. He felt a few rounds of the chain gun take his shields down as he broke from cover. He was damn lucky the rockets were on cooldown. He barely made it to the building before the ground shook as more rockets impacted behind him.

Zaeed took a couple of seconds to regain his breath and let his shields come back online before sneaking around to peer around the opposite side of the barracks. He got a couple of shots off into the windshield of the mech before it managed to turn and fire on him. He could feel the ground shake as the Atlas closed in on his position.

He put his Mattock on his back, returning to the Incisor rifle. Its three-shot burst was more precise and better for penetration. Three good bursts should take out the glass. Then one more for the pilot. He took a deep breath, then ducked out just long enough to take one shot.

Direct hit. _Just two more. _He didn't bother moving to the other side of the building; he needed the mech facing him head-on for this to work.

The ground shook beneath him as it fired two more rockets. He ducked out and fired again. _One._

The damn thing was getting close. He'd be decimated in seconds if he tried to engage without cover. Zaeed waited again for the mech to fire off its rockets, then stepped out to fire the last shot.

The glass cracked and shattered, exposing the pilot.

It was too close. If Zaeed waited for the next round of rockets, he'd be done for. No choice. Bullets from the chain gun fizzled against his shields as he ran straight at the giant mechanical suit.

He jumped towards the cockpit, out of range of the guns, pointed his sniper rifle at the pilot's chest one-handed, and fired.

The pilot slumped over in his seat, held in place by the seatbelt. It was over. Zaeed climbed back out of the damaged mech.

He glanced around. Ducked into cover and listened. No gunfire. No voices calling out commands. The only sounds were the hiss of smoldering debris. The whine of an idling shuttle.

He punched up the motion tracker in his omni-tool. Nothing. He hit the code to relay a signal back through their shuttle to Omega. When some toadie answered the call, Zaeed cut him off. "Get me Aria. Now."

"Now, Aria is very busy. If you leave a message with me…" came the nasally reply. _Damn Salarians. _

"This is Massani. Tell Aria to _get on the goddamn line!_"

"I… why… I don't…"

"What do you want, Zaeed?" came Aria's voice, clipped and impatient.

Zaeed fiddled with his omni-tool, trying to ping Shepard's life-sign readout from her armor. "We were ambushed." He stood up, surveying the carnage as he moved back to the half-collapsed building that contained his friend. Or what was left of her. "It's Shepard."

"What's the Commander gotten herself into this time?" the Asari sighed.

_There! _A picture flashed up, a rude 3-dimensional diagram that appeared above his forearm, displaying a human form on her side with multiple flashing red areas. Broken femur. Arm broken in three places. Multiple cracked ribs. Heart rate and blood pressure were dropping. She was alive. But with all that weight pressing down on her, probably not for long.

He pressed a few more buttons to send the information through his signal to Omega. "She's in trouble. I need a medical team here. Now."

"Best ETA I can give you is two hours." Her voice was all business now, having lost its impatient edge.

"I'll see if I can't dig her out by then."

"There are two of her former crew in your system. They asked my permission to come into my territory only a few hours ago to chase down a lead. I'll get them in touch with you. Have you contacted the _Normandy_?"

"Not yet," he climbed over the last of the debris to survey the lab. "Don't know how far out the ship is. Thought you'd be closer. I'm going to let you go so I can call EDI."

"Hang in there, Zaeed. Help is on the way." She sounded almost kind. It was beyond uncharacteristic.

He dialed up EDI, sending the live feed of Shepard's life-signs ahead of the voice call. "Mr. Massani. I take it from the readings you sent that Shepard is in trouble?" she dispensed with any pleasantries as she greeted him.

"Yeah." He scrubbed a hand over his face, which was sticky with sweat and covered in dirt and dust. "Anything you can do to help?" He looked around. He couldn't just leave her to be slowly crushed. He looked back at the Atlas mech. He strode back, wasting no time in cutting the seatbelt and flinging the dead pilot to the ground. He took over the pilot's seat, booting the machine back up.

"You're in luck," she replied. "We're currently in the Sahrabarik system, refuelling. We can be in the Batalla system in an hour. Anderson is available. Patching you through."

"Massani," Anderson said tersely over the feed. "EDI tells me you're trying to get my girl killed."

"Girl don't need any help for that," Zaeed replied, grasping the edge of a slab of concrete with the hands of the Atlas. Fucking thing didn't want to move. "What I'm trying to do right now, is get her out from under tonnes of debris before it crushes her. I'm trying to help her _not_ get killed," he added between clenched teeth.

"We have enough fuel to get to you and back. We're uncoupling with the station now, and we'll be headed straight to you."

"Might want to make a stop at Omega on the way," Zaeed replied. The slab was moving now. Slowly. He'd lifted one edge and was dragging it backwards, exposing the interior of the building. "Aria's putting together a medical team."

"In contact with her now," EDI interrupted. "Lieutenant Vega is currently on leave on Omega. Should I instruct Jeff to detour or plot a course directly to Shepard?"

"Tell Aria to have her people ready. And let Vega know what's going on. If he wants to come along, he's going to have to be ready to go when we arrive," Anderson replied.

"Understood, Sir," EDI replied.

"We're en route to Omega. I've instructed EDI to keep the feed open for Shepard's biometric data, even if you disconnect. Doctor Chakwas is going to want up-to-date information when we arrive," Anderson addressed Zaeed.

"Thanks, Anderson. I need to concentrate on this, so…"

"Understood, Massani. See you in an hour."

Zaeed was left with a pile of rubble, a dying friend, and his own thoughts. For about two minutes. Then his omni-tool started beeping obnoxiously. "What?" he asked shortly.

"Zaeed, this is Miranda. Aria has updated me on your situation."

"And…" he was getting closer to where Shepard was trapped. The floor had caved in under her, so she was down a floor as well as buried. Two of her cracked ribs were now broken, and it looked like her lung might collapse soon. He didn't have time for chit-chat.

"I and Spectre Alenko have been taking out Cerberus cells together for the last two months. It's led us to the Batalla system. We're on another moon orbiting Nearog. Think you could put two Biotics to work?"

Zaeed heaved a sigh of relief. "Damn, straight I could. When can you be here?"

"Approximately twenty minutes."

"I assume you have my co-ordinates?"

"Affirmative."

"Good. See you soon." Zaeed cut the feed. Shepard's breathing rate was increasing, and one lung had collapsed. The building was crushing her. He swore under his breath and tackled the collapsed lab with renewed fervor.

He couldn't see her yet, but he'd cleared the way to the floor below, so he abandoned the Atlas outside the building and jumped down. Now he'd need to be careful. Move the wrong thing and the pressure killing Shepard would increase, or collapse more of the building below her, caving the whole thing in. She wouldn't survive that.

"Massani?" he heard a feminine voice call out from behind him.

"Down here," he called back.

Two figures appeared above him, backlit by the sun. One jumped down from the edge, then reached back to help the other down.

Zaeed squinted as Miranda and a man who was vaguely familiar came to stand with him. It took him a minute to place the olive-skinned, dark-haired man. _Horizon. He's the jackass who hugged Shepard and then accused her of being a traitor. Asshole broke her heart. _A glance at the man's face showed none of the derision he'd shown that day. Today he hovered somewhere between concerned and devastated.

Miranda betrayed no hint of what she was feeling. She was studying biometric data and typing furiously on her omni-tool. "Some of the nano-bots have done their job, but a couple of her implants are malfunctioning so they're not repairing at a rate I'd like." She swiped over to another image. "Still, the ones that are working may well be the reason she's still alive."

Zaeed motioned to Kaidan. "Give me a hand here. I'm finally getting close to getting her out."

Major Kaidan Alenko surveyed the area quickly before selecting a support beam and testing it with his hands. "This one should come free without collapsing anything. Stand back, please."

Zaeed moved back half a step. He trusted his reflexes enough to keep him out of Alenko's way, and he wanted to waste no time in getting to the next piece.

Kaidan lifted the beam and tossed it just onto the ground above them before turning to re-assess the scene. He turned to Miranda. "How far to her?"

"Another three meters or so of debris. Her lung has collapsed. We need to move faster." She left her omni-tool display up and joined the men in moving chunks of building.

Zaeed had to admit to himself, having two biotics made the job faster. He had no idea what the two were doing here in the asshole of the galaxy, but he'd take whatever coincidence the powers that be would grant him, right about now.

Minutes passed unnoticed save for tracking Shepard's steadily worsening condition. Finally, they caught sight of her.

Her left foot, to be exact. The grey armoured boot was all they could see of her, trapped under a two-meter slab of concrete, six inches thick. Miranda and Kaidan exchanged looks. Even together, they weren't strong enough to lift it.

"Well?" Zaeed asked impatiently.

"No good," replied Kaidan. "We're just not strong enough."

Zaeed spat out a long string of obscenities.

"Seconded," added Miranda, wiping sweat from her forehead with her long sleeve. She pressed a few buttons on her omni-tool interface. "EDI, we've done all we can. When will you be here?"

They saw it before they heard it: Long curved nose, with its wings tucked in. White and black with blue detailing. "I believe we are here," EDI's smooth, feminine voice replied.

Almost as one, their shoulders sagged with relief. The Normandy set down gently just outside the edge of the compound, cargo door opening before she settled, and as soon as her feet hit dirt, people poured out.

EDI and Aria arrived first, out-sprinting the medical personnel. A half dozen people followed, lugging bags and medical gear, and James brought up the rear.

EDI wasted no time jumping down to their level. Her shiny metallic body moved oddly for a moment. "Scan complete," she said in a detached voice. She then held a hand out, palm-up, projecting a 3-dimensional image of the Commander and the debris that was crushing her. "There is only one remaining piece that is holding her. It will take the efforts of all the biotics here to accomplish. Everyone will need to lift straight vertically to keep from further injuring the Commander. After the slab is removed, one of the biotics here will need to move Shepard to solid ground in a stasis field. There is too great a risk of collapse if medical attention is administered at the site of the accident. Aria, can you lift her once she is free?"

The Asari nodded, for once allowing someone else to control the situation.

Doctor Chakwas directed the other medical personnel to lay out a sterile tarp, and set their medical tools to one side. "We'll start medical treatment here, stabilize her, then move her to the sick bay on the _Normandy_," she instructed.

"Doctor Chakwas, please stand at the edge of the building and direct Aria," EDI addressed the grey-haired doctor. The grey-haired woman nodded.

"Here," Miranda moved to where the doctor stood, handing her up a canister that contained a syringe.

The doctor held it up, recognising it immediately, and smiled. "Thank-you, Miranda."

Miranda only nodded and returned to her position.

"Alright, everyone who isn't biotic, EDI, or me, stand back," Chakwas commanded.

The onlookers followed the order and stood back and watched as the three biotics, side-by-side, raised the slab and set it on the ground next to the half-collapsed building. As one, they held their breath as Commander Shepard, sheathed in the blue nimbus that was Aria's stasis field, was borne up in the air, moved the few meters to safety, and set down gently.

Then chaos erupted. Chakwas took the lead, barking out orders to the two other doctors and three nurses. James helped the three biotics climb up out of the building, handing them energy bars and juice when they had their feet safely on solid ground. Kaidan looked at the muscled soldier in surprise as he handed him the food.

"Last time I saw Shepard she was being treated in hospital for overtaxing her biotics," James said by way of explanation. "I'd rather not see that again."

Kaidan nodded and ripped into the energy bar's packaging. Miranda ate hers slowly, glancing at James with eyes that saw too much. Aria took the proffered food and sat next to Zaeed. The two old warriors sat in companionable silence as they watched the medical team work.

James sat on the edge of the foundation, dangling his legs into the void below. His shoulders slumped in defeat. Though he couldn't see her past the backs of the medical team, his eyes never left Shepard.

Miranda moved to James' side and with an almost inhuman grace, lowered herself to squat next to him. "This is the first time you've seen her like this, isn't it?" she asked gently.

He nodded, trying in vain to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat.

"It's the third for me. I was the lead in the project that took two years to bring her back. She looked much, much worse than this for most of that time."

James squinted at Miranda before returning his gaze to Shepard. "Is there something about this that's supposed to be comforting?" _If this is your idea of reassurance lady, you need to go brush up on your people skills._

"Hear me out," she kept on. "You were stranded off-planet after the Catalyst fired, so you didn't see the state she was in when we found her in the rubble next to the beam."

He shook his head. "Last time the two of us were in a situation like this, we were the ones doing the rescuing. Feels _wrong_, her being the one in trouble." He clenched and unclenched his fists, as though he could beat the universe into submission for allowing such a travesty.

"My point is, she's been through worse than this. She's come back from it twice. Commander Shepard is a fighter. Don't lose hope." She stood and returned to Kaidan's side, speaking with him in low tones.

He mused on her awkward attempt at comfort as he stared at the bustle of medical personnel. A nurse stood up and came to Miranda and Kaidan. "Doctor Chakwas has asked me to check you over, make sure you didn't overextend your biotics."

Miranda bristled at the implication she didn't know her own limits, but Kaidan calmed her with a touch on the arm before sitting and patiently allowing the nurse to do her assessment, granting her a smile.

The opening the woman left allowed James a glimpse of Shepard's chest.

Many a time he had imagined what her bare breasts looked like, but he would have given anything to remove the memory now. No one should be allowed to see her so weak, so helpless, so _exposed_. One of the doctors cut a small incision in her torso, and slid a small object into the hole. Her ribcage rose immediately. _That _sight made up for the indignity of seeing Shepard so callously exposed. _She was breathing._

James took a deep, relieved breath for the first time since hearing of her accident. He'd been on leave on Omega, enjoying the rough-and-tumble atmosphere of the station before reporting for duty on board the _Normandy_ ten days from now. Imagine his surprise to find himself contacted by the ship's AI a week and a half early, with news that Shepard was in trouble.

Part of him had believed she was dead until he saw that breath. She'd been so still. Now she lay, armor strewn haphazardly around her, with people kneeling at her side in an attempt to stabilize her before moving her to the ship. But she was breathing. She lived. There was hope.

He didn't see or hear Admiral Anderson come to stand beside him until he felt a strong hand come to rest on his shoulder, squeeze once, and let go. The steady presence next to him remained after the contact was removed.

He wondered distantly if he was really that transparent. A quick glance around told him that perhaps wasn't the case. The Admiral may have simply chosen him because he was the only one alone. The gesture was appreciated though. Anderson had had his back for a long time now. Maybe the old man needed some comforting as well, watching the woman he loved like a daughter fight for her life. Again. Another glance showed him that his were not the only eyes that fought to hold back tears. David Anderson's gaze met his for a moment. The old soldier nodded once, then returned his gaze to the scene before them.

Unseen by the onlookers on the ground, the entire crew of the _Normandy _crowded into the portside lounge, watching for the faintest sign that their former Commander would make it, though from this distance all they could see were people standing around. EDI had returned to the ship once Shepard was turned over to the doctors, having nothing more to accomplish at the scene. She stood next to Joker, sliding her hand into his and giving it a gentle squeeze. He squeezed back, and held on.

Finally, interminably later, the doctors strapped Shepard onto a backboard, and James and Anderson finally had something to do. Zaeed and Kaidan joined them, carrying the Commander under the watchful eye of one of Aria's doctors, while the rest of the medical team ran on ahead to prepare the med bay.


	13. Chapter 13

Two hours later Shepard was rushed into hospital for surgery, and all anyone could do was wait and hope.

They were on a small secret medical-slash-research and development colony on Lorek. It was the closest and best-equipped hospital, so in the name of keeping the Commander alive, Aria had offered it up.

She _did _threaten to cut trade ties with Earth if the Alliance tried to seize it.

Anderson refused to leave the installation until they had a prognosis. He had ordered most of the crew to stay onboard the _Normandy, _but as Joker refused to be left to wait on board the ship again, he waited in the hospital lobby alongside the Admiral. And where Joker went, so did EDI. She sat quietly next to the ship's pilot, holding his hand. For his part, Anderson hadn't even argued. The two had been longtime crew under Shepard. He understood the need to be there while she was under the knife. James paced back and forth, unable to keep his nervous energy in check. Anderson had actually invited him to come along.

It was a lush world: sunny and green, with perpetual daytime on one side, and eternal night on the other. The Batarians had a colony of nearly five million people on the planet before the Reapers came. The colony had been decimated and the planet subsequently abandoned by the Batarians. Aria had set up the facility in an unsettled valley with a lake at one end. Although it was a bit warm, the lighter gravity made it a perfect place to rehabilitate.

Aria had taken the shuttle she'd loaned to Shepard and Zaeed back to Omega, not needing the maudlin distraction of waiting around to see if the Commander's luck held. Zaeed had stayed behind to finish his mission and gather any intel he could from the Cerberus base. Miranda volunteered to aid him, being the resident Cerberus expert. Kaidan joined them, wanting to do something useful while he waited. They hadn't arrived yet.

Doctor Chakwas was in with Shepard. She'd insisted on remaining close, having the most extensive medical knowledge of the Commander, and well-versed in her post-death modifications. Most of which didn't actually _exist_ elsewhere.

Aria had sent a shuttle to retrieve the medical staff from Omega. They were needed back on the space station.

Anderson was silent as they waited, occasionally getting up to slowly walk around the waiting room. Joker stared into nothingness, uncharacteristically quiet. James spent the time pacing up and down the waiting room, or tapping his feet endlessly as he sat, unable to keep still as Shepard's fate was still up in the air.

None of them wanted to think about what life would be life without her. None of them could keep their thoughts from straying there.

Two hours after the arrival of the _Normandy_, Kaidan and Miranda and Zaeed came to sit in the waiting area with the others. They kept themselves busy and quiet separately poring over the intel they'd gathered from the destroyed Cerberus base.

Forty-five minutes after their arrival Karin Chakwas came out, discarded cap and mask dangling from her fingers, a tired but relieved smile on her face. A balding man, also in surgical scrubs, accompanied her.

They stood to hear the news.

"Our Shepard is a fighter," Doctor Chakwas began in her smooth English accent. "She's going to be fine. She's breathing on her own, and she's sedated. Knowing her, the moment she opens her eyes she'll be trying to walk out the front door." She chuckled, knowing full well the statement was only a mild exaggeration.

"How long until we see her on her feet again?" Anderson asked.

"Her implants, and the modifications Cerberus made are remarkable. She should be able to walk without a splint in five days. Safe to run in nine. Barring complication, she should be cleared for full combat in two weeks."

"Thank God," James and Miranda said in unison. They exchanged knowing smiles. Invalid Shepard was not something anyone wanted inflicted on them.

Anderson pulled the doctors aside and they spoke in soft tones while the rest exchanged smiles and claps on the back. Joker stepped back with his hands up as the congratulations went around. "Nobody touch me unless you want me in there with her."

That earned him his own set of smiles. His brittle bone syndrome was well-known among anyone who'd worked with him, but in the heat of the moment, he wasn't taking any risks.

Anderson returned to address the rest. "Unfortunately, the _Normandy _has duties she is expected to perform. We can't stay for Shepard's recuperation."

"The doctors here have things well under control. Aria chose her people well," Chakwas replied. "Miranda, will you be staying here to monitor her?"

The brunette sighed, and nodded. "With how often I have to do this, the Alliance should be paying me on retainer."

"I'm seriously considering it," Anderson retorted, face a mask of resigned annoyance.

"This is Doctor Griffon. He was the head surgeon. He did a phenomenal job of patching Shepard up with minimal invasiveness. Great hands, too," she added with a mischievous smile.

The man blushed from his jaw to the roots of his grey-and brown hair while Chakwas chuckled at his expense.

"After you guys got Shepard out from under the debris that was crushing her, and you got her lung re-inflated, she was pretty much out of danger. All I really had to do was get in there and make sure her ribs and the fragments of her femur were back in proper position so her implants could do the rest. For some reason the only bones that were healing were the ones that weren't displaced when they broke."

"We designed the nano-bots to read Shepard's biology and only repair if they could return her to prime functioning state. When we found her, her bones were in shards throughout her body. We needed to make sure the bots would repair her to full functionality. So the osteo-bots specifically don't activate unless any displaced broken bone is first realigned," Miranda interjected. "This also prevents any bone remodelling during the healing process."

"And you are?" the doctor stared at her, unsure why someone with so much knowledge of Shepard's physiology was left out of the operation.

"Miranda Lawson." She shook the man's hand. "I worked for Cerberus…"

The man took a step back, his panicked and confused glance flicking over the others in the room. Wondering why they were so blasé about an admitted operative of a terrorist organisation among them.

She sighed. "I was in charge of the project that reconstructed Shepard and essentially raised her from the dead."

The statement turned his expression from confusion to incredulity. "That's not even…"

"Possible," Miranda finished with a wave of her hand. "And yet, you operated on a living, breathing woman today. She had been dead for weeks by the time we started the project. And though we kept her body in stasis after it was retrieved, she was actually not even remotely alive for over a year."

"Remarkable," he said under his breath.

"Yeah, the Commander's pretty spry for a zombie." The comment earned Joker a dirty look from Anderson and EDI each, and an eye-roll from Miranda.

Anderson stepped forward to Miranda's side. "Ms. Lawson has proven her loyalty to Shepard, as well as ingenuity, intelligence, and willingness to help the Alliance hunt down and destroy every last vestige of Cerberus. She's one of the good guys. She's offering to help. I suggest you take her up on it." The mild, friendly suggestion somehow sounded to the ears of all listening to be a very politely-worded order.

"My apologies, Ms. Lawson. I and the medical staff here would be much obliged for any help you're willing to offer."

"Thank you, Doctor. The name 'Cerberus' doesn't usually engender much cordiality. I resigned from that organisation after working as Shepard's second-in-command aboard the _Normandy_."

The Doctor nodded, seeming to come to a conclusion. "Why don't I take you back to see the patient?" Miranda and the man turned and headed through the double doors next to the curved front desk.

"If you have any questions about Shepard, you can refer them to Doctor Griffon," Chakwas supplied. "Since Miranda will be working closely with the staff here, she should be able keep you up to date." She turned to Admiral Anderson. "I'm ready to go, sir."

"Good. EDI will keep the _Normandy_ in touch with the staff after we're gone. Is anyone planning on staying here while Shepard recovers? I'm sure Aria can arrange for transport back to Omega, and you can get transports from there," Anderson said.

"Aria is making arrangements for quarters for those of us who want to stay," Zaeed volunteered.

"I've still got ten days of leave," James added. "Might as well spend 'em here."

"I can't really continue my mission without Miranda, so I'm staying too," said Kaidan.

"On behalf of the Alliance, and myself, thank you all for the parts you played today in getting Shepard out of there and to safety," Anderson met the eyes of each person in the room in turn. "She's alive because you all came together to save her."

James spoke up. "She taught us that."

To a man, they all nodded in agreement. Anderson clapped him on the shoulder. "Take care of her, Vega. See you soon." He exited through the front door with Doctor Chakwas and Joker in tow.

"I love how they told us when we can see her," Kaidan said, frustration evident in his voice.

"No kidding," James assented. "Guess we have to wait for Miranda to come back. So Zaeed, Aria's getting us a place to stay?"

"So she tells me," Zaeed replied with a shrug. Over the years, he'd stayed in far less idyllic places. For all he cared, he'd sleep in the grass under a tree. Barring bugs. Zaeed Massani _hated_ bugs.

It was twenty minutes before Miranda and Doctor Griffon returned. Kaidan jumped to his feet as soon as the doors opened. "Can we see her?"

_Whoa, boy. Eager much? _James thought snidely.

"She's being sedated so she doesn't dive-roll out of bed the moment she wakes, steal a transport and go back for some revenge," Miranda replied. She glanced at the doctor for a moment. He nodded. "But you can all come see her. Stay quiet though. Shepard metabolises drugs very quickly. It's pretty touchy figuring out the correct doses, so if you could keep from waking her up, it would be appreciated."

All three of the men left the lobby crowded around her, eager to see how their former leader was doing.

"You seem to have things well in-hand, and I have my research to get back to. You can contact my omni-tool, or speak with one of the nurses if you need anything."

"Thank you, Doctor," Miranda replied. The man scurried back through the doors, already scanning a datapad he'd pulled from a pocket of his lab coat.

"If you'll follow me?" She turned on her heel, the natural sway of her hips showing off her perfect ass. Not that any of the men following were looking. Or stupid enough to mention that they were.

"It's a pretty small colony. Aria set it up as her personal R & D division. It has state-of-the-art medical facilities, and very highly trained medical personnel, as well as support staff and enough family members and regular citizens to function as a relatively self-sufficient settlement. Doctor Griffon tells me they have a population of about a thousand people, and Aria has assigned a recruiter to draw talent here. It's really an excellent facility," Miranda explained as she led them to an elevator. She hit the button for the third floor. "You'll find there isn't much active staff in this half of the building. It's split right up the middle, each floor dedicated half to medicine, half to research. It allows them to supervise patients and do their research simultaneously."

She stepped out into a well-lit but empty hallway. She turned into the third room on the left. Shepard lay in the single bed in the room, pale and still, with tubes leading from her left arm, and an oxygen mask over her mouth. The sheets tented over her chest and her right leg and arm, held up by holographic frames hidden beneath the sheets.

Kaidan stared at the still body in the bed. The sight stole his breath. He was shocked at the depth and suddenness the emotions that swamped him. There lay his former lover. Once upon a time, she was the last woman he'd ever wanted to be with. Before she died, he'd been her last lover. Something still remained there, still strong despite everything they'd been through. It wasn't love. Not like it had been, anyways. It had changed over time, without his knowledge or consent.

He looked across the body of the woman he'd loved, to the one who'd taken her place in his heart. Miranda watched him, patiently waiting for him to process his emotions. He smiled at her, small and subtle with a wry twist. The strange and fleeting apology was the most beautiful expression she'd ever seen. She acknowledged it with a nod. _Took you long enough to figure it out._

Zaeed hated hospitals. Hated the unnatural smell. Hated the whining of the other patients and the bitchiness of the doctors and nurses. Hated the anger that rose in his throat like bile at the thought of his best friend's betrayal, and the weeks he'd had to spend strapped to the bed because he wouldn't stay otherwise. The weeks that had saved his life. And he hated seeing Shepard like this. Such a strong, indomitable woman shouldn't be reduced to a still lump beneath a sheet. She should be on her feet, yelling and swearing a blue streak. She should be pointing a gun in his face, telling him to put up or shut up.

Soon, he knew. Soon she'd be back on her feet doing all of those things. But for now, she lay there, silent. And he hated it.

Miranda, for her part, felt very little as she looked on Shepard's still form. As she'd told James, she'd seen the Commander in far worse shape. Repeatedly. She was simply glad Shepard was going to get better, and left the emotions to the men.

James could only see one detail: the way her breath fogged the mask, and how her chest rose and fell above where the sheet covered it. She was breathing. She was alive. She was going to be fine. That was all that mattered. He looked into the faces of the others and understood that he wasn't the only one in the room who loved her. Each of them had some part of their hearts, their lives that belonged only to her. And he was glad for it. He hoped one day she'd figure out that she really wasn't alone. She hadn't been for a long time.

They stood around the bed, staring and saying nothing. No one approached Shepard for fear of waking her. After a couple of minutes, Miranda spoke: "Alright, I think it's time for us to let her rest." She herded them out of the room.

Relief and exhaustion washed over them as they stood in the hall. "Let's go find the person in charge of our sleeping arrangements. We can't do much good hanging around here," Kaidan suggested.

An attractive dark-skinned man met them in the lobby. He was dressed in casual but well-cut clothes and moved with ultimate self-assurance. He introduced himself as Boyd, the manager of the installation, and led them from the hospital. He led them through the streets of the small town with long, confident strides, pointing out landmarks as he went, among them a general store, pub, daycare and school. Ten minutes into the tour, the whine of shuttle engines could be heard. They looked up to see two shuttles carrying prefab buildings.

"What are those for?" asked Kaidan.

"We keep spares on-hand for our new recruits, so they can be set up in their own homes as soon as possible. We're moving them next to the hospital to act as your lodgings while you're here."

"If we're staying next to the hospital, what's the tour for?" asked James in typical tactful fashion.

The manager turned to him with a wry smile. "I wanted you to get the lay of the land, and we needed you out of the way while we moved the units. Now you might stand a chance of finding your way around if you need anything, and we can get your rooms set up while you're pre-occupied."

"Sneaky," Zaeed complimented.

"You'll have proper facilities: we're hooking up solar panels and a portable water recycling unit. You will have to keep the showers short though. We'd rather not refill the tank every other day."

"We're soldiers. We understand water rationing," Kaidan volunteered.

"Good. There shouldn't be a problem then. I'll set up a direct link to my omni-tool. If you need anything, I'll do my best to accommodate you."

"You're going above and beyond, as it is," Kaidan said.

"Well, when you have Aria for a boss, she says jump…" he shrugged. "She pays well, and she hasn't turned down one of my requisitions yet. She's setting this up as her own state-of-the-art research facility. Many of the researchers are displaced colonists from elsewhere in the galaxy. The Reapers did their damnedest to raze most settlements to the ground, like they did with the Batarians just a couple hundred kilometers from where we're standing. But there are always people who manage to hide, or evacuate, or who were off-planet when they hit. We recruit highly-trained individuals who are looking to start over. The population here is about a thousand people, mostly young professionals. Mostly humans from the colonies. Most people of the other species are too focused on recovering their home planets to restart in a place like this." He shrugged. "They'll come when we start to establish a reputation. There are a few families. There are two research facilities aside from the hospital, which you've seen. Most of the citizens work there. A few more came along with spouses, and some run the shops or teach at the school. We want to make a real home out of this colony, so we'll take anyone with the right attitude and work ethic."

"Sounds like a sales pitch," James said with a smirk.

"We can always use good security personnel, so if you ever want to retire, give us a call."

"Sorry, man. In ten days I get to work on the _Normandy_. I'm not giving up the best ship in the galaxy, not even for a place this beautiful."

"My Alliance duties keep me pretty busy," Kaidan said apologetically. "I wouldn't mind taking a vacation here though."

Zaeed just laughed. "I already work for your boss. Pretty sure if you succeeded in recruiting me you'd be out of a job."

"Well then, forget I said anything." He'd led them back to the open area between the hospital and the rest of the settlement. Two buildings had magically appeared in their absence, and three workers were setting up solar panels on the roof, while a third hooked up the two holding tanks to the side.

"Speaking of saving water," James piped in, "is the lake safe to swim in?"

"Absolutely. There's a trail that leads to the beach just down there." Boyd pointed towards the lake. "Pretty good fishing, too. The store downtown can supply you if you're interested." James and Kaidan's eyes lit up.

Boyd added, "Once we have you situated, I'll have someone send a couple of rods." A knowing smirk gave the man a boyish air. "Come on. They should be done enough inside for me to show you around, at least."

The three men trailed behind him as he led into the nearest building. Large for a prefab, each building boasted a small kitchen, two medium-sized bedrooms and an open living area, as well as its own bathroom. "We're bringing in fold-out cots for you. Both buildings should be plenty of room for all of you."

"I doubt any of us require more than one bedroom," Zaeed responded sarcastically.

Boyd looked at him in surprise. "Aria informed me there are others coming."

"Really?" asked Kaidan. "Who?"

"I'm sorry. I don't remember the names. A Turian and a Quarian. And Liara T'Soni is on her way from the Citadel, as well."

Grins spread across all three men's faces. "Looks like the old gang's getting back together," James said.

"Never did get to properly celebrate our victory," Zaeed added.

They spent the afternoon getting settled in their new quarters, and Miranda joined them a couple of hours later.

It was a strange, long day, both for the events and for the never-setting sun on Lorek. They checked on Shepard once more, and finding her unchanged, retired to their new home and shared a drink in mellow company before going to bed.

* * *

><p>James couldn't sleep. The blackout shutters held the sun at bay, and the air conditioning kept the house at a comfortable temperature, but he couldn't shake the image of Shepard, trapped under the rock. Shepard, chest bare as they saved her life. Shepard still on a stretcher. Shepard pale and resting in the hospital.<p>

On some level, he hadn't believed she was capable of being so helpless. So broken. _His Lola._ He wondered if in her sedated state, she dreamed. On that thought, he folded up his cot and, carrying it, snuck out of the house and made his way to the hospital.

A bored-looking young woman sat behind the front desk. "I assume you're one of those here to see Commander Shepard."

He nodded. "She's prone to nightmares."

Her eyebrow rose in question.

"I was wondering if it might be okay for me to set this," he held up the cot so she could see, "in the hall outside her room. I know how to wake her."

A disbelieving smirk joined the eyebrow. "Suuuuure…"

His eyes narrowed. "I mean I know how to dodge the swing she throws when you try."

Eyes widened. "She does that?"

"Yup. Decked me good a couple of times. The Commander has a well-developed sense of 'fight'."

"And you still want to sleep in a well-lit hall to give her the opportunity to do it again? Are you sure you don't want to sleep _in _the room?"

"Yes. Very. In fact, I'd rather she didn't know I was there at all."

She nodded slowly. "Fine. Don't expect me to lie to her for you, though. If she asks directly I _will _tell her."

"Thanks." He carried the cot through the double doors and set it up next to her room door. After a quick glance to reassure himself that she slept, he climbed into his bed, threw an arm over his eyes, and promptly fell asleep.

It was a fitful night. Between the lights and the fact that he woke up each time someone passed, James didn't get the best quality sleep.

Miranda woke him some time later. "The doctors have stopped giving her the sedative. She should be awake soon. I thought you might not want to be here when that happens."

He blinked through the blue nimbus of the stasis field she'd put him in, and tried to nod. The field dissipated and James sat up. "Thanks. I don't think she'd appreciate my still looking after her."

"I thought as much. I'll let you know when she's awake. Go get some real sleep."

He blinked bleary eyes, folded the cot up, and went to follow her advice.

He caught a few strange looks on his way back to his room, and even more when he found said room occupied by two cots, a Turian and a Quarian. "Hey James," greeted Garrus. Tali waved.

"Scars. Sparks. When did you get here?"

"About an hour ago. Did we steal your room?" replied Tali.

"Not really. Don't worry about it."

"Where _were _you, anyways?" Garrus asked, mandibles twitching with mirth. Apparently he knew precisely where the Lieutenant had spent the night.

James ignored him as he went into the other bedroom and set his cot up opposite the one already there. He hoped Zaeed didn't snore. Not really an issue right now, being as the man was absent. He threw himself onto the cot and fell back asleep.


	14. Chapter 14

Shepard opened her eyes and looked around. She was groggy and a dull ache throbbed in her temples. Her ribs hurt when she breathed, and she couldn't move her right arm or leg. A quick glance down told her that her leg was in a splint, and her arm was held in an immobiliser field. A glance up told her what her subconscious already knew. Hospital.

Again.

_Dammit._

_But where?_

She scanned the room and found a pair of patient clear blue eyes. "Welcome back, Shepard."

Shepard leaned up on her good arm, wincing as her ribs protested. "We have _got _to stop meeting like this," she joked.

"Indeed," Miranda replied.

"What happened?" As she said the words, memories of the ambush came crashing down on her all at once. A terrible thought crossed her mind. "Zaeed…?"

"Is fine. Fought off over a dozen Cerberus troops after they took you out. Had you dug most of the way out by the time help arrived. Mr. Massani very likely saved your life."

She lay back on the bed. "Guess I owe him a bottle of whiskey."

"Hey, Miri," a familiar voice came from beyond the door. "I'm heading down to the lake to go fishing." Kaidan came into the room. "Can you let me know if…"

Shepard hit the button to raise the head of the bed, and waved.

"Good to see you awake, Shepard," Kaidan said with a warm smile.

"Good to _be _awake," she replied, but her thoughts were going a mile a minute.

_Miri. He called her 'Miri'. _There'd been a time when Kaidan Alenko wouldn't have even spoken to the woman, and now she had a nickname? Shepard glanced between the two. Subtle differences in their posture, invisible to anyone who didn't know them, who didn't know _him _as intimately as it was possible to know someone, reinforced her conclusion.

Kaidan Alenko, the man who'd rejected her for joining Cerberus, had moved on with the woman who, _while working for Cerberus_, had saved her life.

If it weren't for Miranda, he would never have rejected her.

If it weren't for Miranda, she wouldn't have been _alive _for him to reject her.

_Dammit._ This was too complicated to handle this soon after almost dying. She'd deal with it later. She stuffed it in a box in her brain, sat on it, and padlocked it shut.

While Shepard tried to work out the impossibility that was the relationship between her two former crew, Kaidan turned to Miranda. "Does anyone know yet?"

"No. She'd only been awake a couple of minutes before you came in."

"Someone should tell the others."

_Others?_

"Let Doctor Griffon do his assessment first, without everyone underfoot. I'll go page him." Miranda breezed out of the room.

"Wait, _who _is here? And where is here, anyways?"

"We're on Lorek, in the Fathar system. It's Aria's personal medical-slash-research-and-development colony. And there's you, me, Miranda, Zaeed, James, Garrus, Tali, and Liara is on her way," Kaidan replied.

"And _why _is everyone here?"

He leaned a hip on the foot of the bed. "You… weren't there, Shepard. When you died…" his voice grew hoarse on the last word, "we didn't even have a body to bury. But we had a funeral. We all got together to mourn. And when you almost died at the end of the Reaper War, most of us were on the _Normandy. _We all thought you were dead. We even had a memorial. This is the first time you've been seriously injured that the people who've served with you actually get to be there for you when you're in trouble. So damn straight every single one of us packed up and hauled ass to be here. Some of us were close enough to help with the rescue. The rest just needed to be here while you recover."

"Oh."

"If it was any of us, would you do any less?" he asked, those fathomless brown eyes questioning.

"Not a goddamn chance in hell. You know I'd go to the ends of the galaxy for _any _of my crew." Her eyes bored into his as she spat her reply.

"Actually you _have _gone to the ends of the galaxy for _most _of your crew. And every single one of us would do the same for you. That's why we're here now."

Shepard turned to the wall, blinking back tears. It was one thing to know something, and another entirely to have it _shown_ to you.

"I hear tell our patient rejoins the waking," a balding man in a lab coat said as he entered the room, smiling. He looked her over quickly, and shook his head. "Even with everything Miranda's shown me about what Cerberus did to you, this recovery is astonishing."

"Don't ever underestimate me," Shepard replied wryly, chin raised stubbornly.

"And here I thought the rumors about you were widely exaggerated," the doctor mumbled to himself. He greeted the Commander with a firm handshake, doing her the courtesy of extending his left hand, as her right was immobilized. "I'm Doctor Griffon. It's an honor to meet you."

"Believe me, if you're the one that patched me up, the honor's all mine," she replied with a smile.

The doctor turned to Kaidan. "If you'll excuse us, I'd like to examine my patient," he requested politely.

"No problem. I'll keep the others from coming in until after you're done."

Dr. Griffon nodded. "Much obliged." Kaidan exited, closing the door gently behind him.

By the time the doctor was done asking questions, looking at her surgical scars and comparing scans, Shepard was exhausted. It had taken no more than twenty minutes, but she was just about ready to go back to sleep. Good thing, what with her not allowed to get out of bed for another two days.

The door opened and Miranda and the doctor came out. Kaidan searched her eyes. She nodded. "Go tell them the good news. I'll update EDI. They can come down to visit, but she's tired, so have them keep it brief." She walked off fiddling with her omni-tool, not bothering to wait for his response.

He walked to the lobby, shaking his head and grinning to himself. He'd long since grown accustomed to the perfect brunette's curt manner. Strangely enough, he now found it endearing. Her deficit of social graces seemed to somehow balance her apparent physical perfection. It somehow made her more human.

He entered their quarters to find a beautiful blue-skinned woman exchanging hugs with Tali. "Liara," he greeted with a smile, giving the woman a warm hug in turn.

"Kaidan. It's good to see you. I wish it were under better circumstances."

"The circumstances aren't so bad now. Shepard's awake."

Every head in the room whipped around to face him. "She's tired, so Miranda asked us to keep the visit short, but we can see her."

James was headed for the door before anyone had the chance to speak. The others followed his lead.

For a man who was so eager to see her again, he sure seemed hesitant to actually go in her room. He stood in the hallway as the others arrived, staring at the door, but not entering. Tali and Liara passed him, going straight in. Liara flashed him a cryptic look as she did. Garrus awkwardly patted him on the shoulder and followed the women through the door.

James waited until all the others had gone ahead before taking a step. After the way they had parted, would she even_ want_ to see him? He swallowed and took another step. And just about jumped out of his skin as a voice appeared out of thin air. "In or out, Muscles. You're blocking the door," an amused-sounding female voice said from the empty air to his left.

He slapped a hand over his suddenly-racing heart. "You scared the shit out of me."

The voice giggled. "I know. That trick never gets old." The air shimmered, and a lithe, hooded woman appeared next to him, dressed all in black.

"And you are?"

"Kasumi Goto, master thief. At your service." She curtseyed gracefully, and looked him up and down slowly with an appreciative eye. "Any time, day or night," she added with a predatory smile.

He took a step back, raising his hands in defence. Everything about the diminutive woman screamed '_Danger!'_.

"Well, are we going in or not?"

He went in, if only to avoid further argument. Having her behind him made him itchy between the shoulder blades for some reason.

They'd all crowded in close around the bed. Shepard looked pale and weak, but alive. He'd take it. She glanced at the door as he entered, and an expression passed over her face. Relief? Anger? It was gone before he could decipher it.

Kasumi wiggled her way between Zaeed and Garrus. "Where did _you _come from?" asked Zaeed gruffly.

She shrugged.

"She stowed away in my shuttle," answered Liara.

"I _thought _you knew I was there," replied Kasumi.

"You may only work for me on an anonymous, freelance basis, but that doesn't mean I don't track your whereabouts, difficult as that may be," the youthful blue-skinned woman replied with a smirk.

"That just takes the fun out of everything." Kasumi crossed her arms and jutted out her full lower lip.

"Now, now, children," Shepard admonished with a smile. She blinked back tears. People she hadn't seen in months, who had their own lives and responsibilities, had dropped everything and come here. Because she might need them. They crowded around her bed, eager to show their support.

All but one. James hovered in the back, looking more uncomfortable than she'd ever seen him. It made her chest ache, in a very different way than the toll breathing took on her ribs. "Vega. Stop looking like I'm going to toss you out, and get your ass over here."

James met her eyes, surprise and relief shining in their green depths. Miranda took a half-step closer to Kaidan to make room for the buff soldier. Shepard made a brief note of her former second-in-command and her former lover's comfort in close proximity before stuffing the observation in the box with the rest of her feelings on the matter. She opened her hand, and James took the invitation. They held on, anchored by the contact. She met his eyes. "Thank you for coming." She looked at the faces around her bed, each in turn. "All of you. It means a lot." Her voice grew hoarse. "More than I can say."

"We're here for you, Shepard," Garrus offered.

"Always," Tali added with passion.

"Alright," Miranda addressed the room. "Shepard's been through a lot, and she needs to get something to eat, and to rest. There will be plenty of time to visit when she's feeling better." A nurse entered, carrying a large shake with a straw. "I had this prepared for you. It will help keep your strength up as your body heals itself at this accelerated rate."

Shepard took the cup gratefully and started drinking as the others trickled their way out of the room. Finished in a couple of minutes, she handed the empty cup back to the nurse, laid the bed back to flat, and closed her eyes. She felt like she could sleep for a week. Her last thought before nodding off was of the tingling imprint James' hand had left on hers.

As they headed out of the hospital, Kasumi accosted James. "So, you and the Commander, huh?" she asked with an exaggerated eyebrow waggle.

"Uh, no," he replied, eyes skimming away from hers. He resisted the urge to rub the heel of his hand over his breastbone. The dull familiar ache that had resided there for so long intensified to a sharp pain. He ignored it. If he ignored it for long enough it would go away. Hopefully.

Kasumi stopped. She stood in the hallway staring after the Lieutenant. There was meddling to be done here. And if there was one thing Kasumi enjoyed in this galaxy, it was meddling.

That, and stealing. But technically, stealing was just a _kind _of meddling, so it amounted to the same thing.

James lagged at the back of the group as they trailed their way out of the hospital. Kaidan and Garrus and Tali talked and joked companionably at the lead, their relief evident.

He rubbed his palms against his pants, trying to hide the fact that they were shaking. When everyone made a right and headed for their temporary home, James made a hard left and went around the side of the hospital, down a path into the trees there. He walked briskly, heart racing, until he reached a small clearing.

There he set his back against a tree, slid down until his butt hit the ground, and laid his head in his hands.

_Breathe, stupid. Breathe._

Walking into that room was the scariest thing he'd ever done. Scarier even than when they'd had to face that Reaper on Tuchanka. On foot.

The way he'd left her in Vancouver… He didn't know if she'd ever want to see him again, never mind when she was injured and vulnerable. He'd more-than-half-expected her to yell at him and toss him out. Or worse: ignore him entirely.

But she hadn't. She'd called him on his chickenshit behavior and then she'd goddamn _taken his hand._

He wasn't reading into it. It was a gesture of reassurance. It wasn't romantic. But she'd touched him. Reached out of her own accord and welcomed him back into her good graces.

He could still feel the imprint of her smaller hand in his. The strength. The assurance.

It was somehow even more important than the other contact he'd shared with her, all those months ago.

_That kiss._

That kiss had _haunted _him. It was one of the most asinine things he'd ever done, trying to take out his frustrations on the body of the person who'd pissed him off. It would have served him right if she'd launched him across the terminal.

But she'd kissed him back. _Dios_, there'd been so much passion. Her lips and hands had told him what her voice apparently couldn't: she wanted him. As much as he wanted her.

Maybe more.

But in the end, it hadn't been enough. She had chosen her solitude over risking her heart. And he'd left.

It was the right thing for him to do. He'd never questioned that. If she wasn't ready, then he needed to move on with his life. Standing around mooning after her wasn't going to change a thing.

Still, even months later he sometimes woke in the night aching for her, the memory of her touch like phantom limb pains. The pain he felt on those nights was shared in equal parts in his body, and his heart.

She'd stolen it so quietly, so easily.

In the way she'd held herself when her reputation was under assault and she faced spending the rest of her life in prison. The way she'd stepped up, leaving behind the battle she wanted to fight on Earth to gather aid from the other species as only she could. The way she faced down the Salarian Dalatress and essentially told her where she could stick it.

He'd watched as she resurrected a dying species and saved the last remaining member of an extinct one. She'd orchestrated a truce between two races who'd been at war for three hundred years, by _yelling at them. _She'd watched old friends and new ones die.

And she never gave up. She took the time to chat with her crew, and it was evident that she genuinely liked them. Time and time again, when it looked like this time they might not make it out, she'd trusted him at her back.

How could he possibly _not _have fallen for her? Hell, he couldn't even blame Kaidan for wanting a second chance with her.

He _could _blame that asshole for the way he'd hurt her. Still did.

Part of him had wanted to reach out to her back then, when the end of the world dogged their heels at every turn. He never knew which moment would be their last together. But in the end, he'd remained silent. He wasn't going to be the distraction that got her killed.

He raised his head, taking a deep breath. She hadn't rejected his support. She'd made it clear that his presence, and his friendship, were more than welcome.

It would be enough.

It would have to be.

* * *

><p>Shepard got a solid eight hours of sleep after the sedation had worn off, and her arm had healed enough to remove the stabilizer field. She was still on bedrest for another day, but the pain in her ribs was almost gone already. They'd served her steak and potatoes. The <em>real <em>kind, grown right there at the colony. It was the best damn meal she'd ever tasted.

So now she sat up in bed, fielding a steady stream of rotating visitors who came to visit two or three at a time.

Tali and Garrus were together. As in, _together, together. _Not publicly, but Shepard could easily tell in the way they were suddenly awkward around each other. It was like watching two thirteen-year-olds, and it was freaking adorable. Two of the most capable individuals in the galaxy, reduced to adolescence by their feelings for each other.

It suddenly struck her that _this _is what she'd fought for all this time. The chance for people to be happy, to love, without the spectre of their own demise hanging over their heads.

Zaeed was welcome company, bringing whiskey and cigars against the doctors' orders. She'd come to love his gruff manner, his endless array of stories.

And he and Aria were, well... She didn't know what two people like that would even call it. Wonders never cease.

She had no clue if there was anything remotely resembling emotion between the two, but she found it a good match. Zaeed needed someone who could match him, punch-for-punch, story-for-story, someone who'd seen hell and lived to tell of it. And Aria needed someone she couldn't push around, who wouldn't put up with her narcissistic bullshit.

Kaidan and Miranda. She'd peeked into that box she'd built earlier, and still wasn't sure how she felt about it. Shepard seemed to have moved past the anger stage and now just found the pairing strange. Like it was against the laws of nature or something. Kaidan was such a boyscout, so by-the-book. Miranda had willingly and knowingly worked for a terrorist organisation. She was beautiful and intelligent and utterly ruthless. Kaidan should be arresting her, not falling in love with her.

And suddenly she wanted to hear the story. How they went from diametrically opposed ideals, to falling in love with each other. She wanted them to tell her.

So apparently she was okay with it.

It was still weird though.

Really, really weird.

Liara was open and friendly, more like the young woman Shepard had rescued way back when on Therum. She'd outgrown her idealism, but she seemed happier. More content. That edge of strain and guilt she'd carried back on Illium had dulled.

The young woman had grown so hard, so fast. She seemed to find her equilibrium somewhere in the last year. Shepard was glad for it.

Kasumi was her usual glib self, playing practical jokes on Shepard's former crew and the hospital staff alike. She openly ogled James, making him blush with startling regularity, and privately questioned Shepard on the man a bit _too _closely.

The sneaky little thief was up to something.

_The sneaky little thief is _always_ up to something_, Shepard reminded herself.

But it was different when people started meddling with your personal life.

Or worse yet, scooped up the man you'd rejected, but had secretly wanted for months.

James. He'd come, even knowing she may not want him there. They hadn't exactly parted on the best of terms.

But he'd dropped everything to come and help in any way he could.

He'd looked absolutely terrified, hovering at the back of the crowd in her hospital room. Poor guy. So she'd reached out. Literally and figuratively. He would likely never know how much it meant to her that he'd come.

Shepard had come to the realization a long time ago that her feelings for James were very, very complicated.

At first, he'd just been there: this steady presence, supporting her even though he didn't know her.

All he'd known was the legend. The woman he met was nothing like the one he'd seen in the vids: disgraced, torn down. Broken.

The last time she'd been in that position, the man she'd loved had rejected her.

The final nail in the coffin of her emotions for Kaidan had come when he'd finally admitted his feelings for her. In a fit of anger, he'd told her that he'd loved her. Past tense. _Asshole._

And then there was Vega. Young. Angry. Disillusioned. It would have made so much sense for him to reject her, in light of the fact she'd taken her reputation as a hero and essentially shat on it. She'd gone from hero, to terrorist, to mass murderer and war criminal before they'd ever met.

It hadn't mattered. Not to him. He granted her the respect she no longer had any right to. He'd seen her at her lowest and it had still been enough for him.

How could she help but fall for him?

Any romantic feelings hadn't started to form until after they'd left Earth. Looking back, she was pretty sure it started when James had stood up to Kaidan on Mars. It meant so much when he backed her like that.

His flirting had kept her sane. He pretended to be a big, dumb jock, but most of the time that was just redirection to keep people from seeing the true man. He was thoughtful, intelligent, and passionately loyal.

So many times, she'd wanted to call him on his flirting. She'd wanted something, some_one_ of her very own to hold onto as everything she knew and loved burned.

But she'd held back. She didn't want to be the distraction that got him killed.

And one night would never be enough. Not for her. Not with him. So she'd held back.

Against all odds, she'd survived. Had to relearn how to be a person. She didn't know how to reconcile the person she was becoming with allowing someone to get _that close _again. Part of her was sure she'd just disappear into the ether if she even tried. Her new sense of self was so fragile she was afraid that she'd lose all she'd fought to regain. She was afraid to lose herself in the emotion of a relationship.

Commander Shepard, Savior of the Citadel, was afraid.

That kiss still haunted her. It washed over her like a ghost at unexpectedly. One moment she was sitting on a shuttle headed to the Citadel, or shooting her way through Cerberus troops, or alone in her rack at night, the next she was back at that terminal, the memory so sharp she could still _feel _his hands, his mouth. He'd said so much with no words at all. She'd felt his anger, his frustration. His pain.

He'd wanted her to know what she would be missing. He'd succeeded. In spades.

If they ever got between the sheets together, she was sure the heat they'd generate would be enough to restart a dying sun.

But she'd rejected him that day.

She didn't know if he'd ever give her a second chance.

So they made polite small-talk, caught up on what they'd been up to since Vancouver. They even flirted, the way they used to before feelings got involved.

Things felt like they were back to normal.

Except for the ache whenever he was near. She wondered if that would ever go away.

She wondered if she even wanted it to.


	15. Chapter 15

Shepard recognised the sound the moment she woke. The gasping breaths, the muttered words. The sound of his elbow hitting the wall as he thrashed. James was having a nightmare.

What she couldn't understand, once she remembered where she was, is what he was doing sleeping anywhere near her in the first place.

_Shouldn't he be passed out in a bedroom somewhere _outside _of this hospital? _She slid off the edge of the bed and to her feet. Her right leg was splinted to immobility from her thigh to her ankle, so she hop-dragged her bum leg to the door to her room.

James was thrashing on a slate grey folding cot that lay along the wall in the hallway. For a moment she stared, wondering how long he'd been spending his nights here.

She guessed in a moment why, and why he hadn't bothered to tell her he was doing it in the first place.

A nurse spotted her and rushed to her side, concerned. "You shouldn't be walking on that leg yet."

Shepard waved her off. "I'm not even putting any weight on it. How long has he been like this?" she asked.

"A couple of minutes at the most. I was afraid to wake him." The young woman's eyes were haunted. James wasn't by far the first person she'd seen in this state.

Shepard squeezed her arm. "We were roommates for a few months not long ago. I can handle this."

"You sure?"

"Absolutely."

The woman nodded and headed back the way she came, leaving Shepard and the fitfully slumbering James alone in the hall.

Shepard slid to a half-squat, her broken leg straight out in front of her as she rested her weight on the other leg.

James lay out on his back, arm thrown over his eyes. His face was pinched and his mouth worked, half-calling out to someone. His other hand clenched and unclenched.

"James," she said quietly. When he didn't respond, she said it again, louder. Still no response. _Dammit, Vega. You couldn't make this easy, could you? _She grabbed his shoulder, shaking as hard as she could without upsetting her precarious balance.

His eyes flew open as he exhaled with a loud grunt. They were wide, unseeing as they panned the hallway in a panic.

She said his name once more. He sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the cot so fast it nearly knocked her on her ass.

He stared into her eyes from inches away, shock and confusion shining in their depths.

"Shepard," he said hoarsely, and she felt herself crushed to his chest.

Her ribs groaned in protest, and her leg had wedged itself at an odd angle under the cot, but she let him take the comfort he needed. It must have been a hell of a dream.

She knew the moment he woke fully and came to himself. "Oh, God, Shepard. I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?" he asked, pushing her away from him to check for injuries. This time he _did _knock her on her ass.

She sat on the floor, feeling a bit ridiculous. "No. I'm fine. Help me up and we can finish this conversation somewhere other than in the hall."

James obliged, hauling her to her feet by her good arm. He supported her with a hand on her waist as they went into her room and helped her get back up on the bed. When he hovered there, unsure what he was expected to do next, she patted the covers next to her hip. "Sit."

He half-perched on the side of the bed, facing her.

"That was a rough one, wasn't it?"

He nodded, swallowing hard, suddenly unable to meet her eyes.

"Want to share?"

He blinked hard, a single tear escaping to trail down his cheek to the corner of his mouth.

It broke her heart.

She reached out and squeezed his hand. "It helps. Believe me."

His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath.

"On Fehl Prime, there was this little girl, April. Sweet girl. We were buddies. When the Collecters hit, and I made the choice to save the intel instead of the colonists, she died."

"Fuck, James. I'm sorry." She knew from experience there were no words that could help.

"I could have saved her, Shepard. If I hadn't been so goddamned selfish. If I hadn't chosen the mission…"

_There's nothing you can do to change it now, James. Killing yourself over it doesn't help anyone. _She didn't say the words out loud. True as they may be, they weren't what he needed to hear. Instead she sat up straight and pulled him to her.

James pressed his face into the crook of her neck, wrapping his arms around her. She slid one hand over the back of his head to wind her fingers through his fauxhawk, the other rubbing circles on his back. He clung to her as he shook and wetness seeped into the shoulder of her shirt.

Shepard held him, content to stay there as long as he needed. He'd been there, physically and emotionally, so many times for her. She was glad to finally repay the favor.

The nurse came by twice as they sat there, hovering in the open door for a moment. Shepard waved her out both times. She was sure if there was a medical emergency James would go fetch the woman anyways. For now, he would want his privacy. In the same situation, she would.

After what seemed like a long time, James raised his face from her shoulder and sat back, wiping his cheeks with his fingers. He didn't look at her, standing up and going into her bathroom without a word. She saw the light come on through the door he left ajar, and heard running water, followed by splashing sounds. He turned the light off and came back a couple of minutes later.

This time he met her eyes. Sadness, guilt, frustration all passed there in the few seconds it took him to cross to the middle of the room. "Look, Shepard…"

She held up a finger to silence him. "If you're about to apologise for what just happened, _don't_." He was taken aback by the fierceness in her gaze. "We all have moments where we fall apart. You've seen more than a few of mine. It's enough for me that you didn't have to face this one alone." _You never have to face any of them alone. Not anymore, _her heart cried. She ignored it. Now was not the time. This was about him, not her.

His shoulders fell in relief. His eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. Exhaustion and defeat etched themselves on his face. James looked like he'd aged ten years in the space of one night.

"I should…"

"No," she interrupted, patting the bed once more. "You'll never get back to sleep after that."

As he well knew; he'd been planning on an impromptu workout session on the beach instead of even trying. James approached her warily.

Shepard lay down on her side, pulling up the sheet by way of invitation. He climbed in next to her and after a bit of squirming and readjusting by both of them, they ended up with her half-reclining, with his head pillowed on her stomach. She stroked her fingers through his hair once more, enjoying the soft texture. One of James' arms was thrown over her legs and his hand rested on her hip, while his other was wrapped around her back. She'd propped a couple of pillows behind her to make room for his arm.

"You comfortable?" James angled his head to meet her gaze.

She nodded, stilling her hand for a moment.

"Just let me know if I'm leaning on your ribs or jarring your leg."

"I'll tell you what: if you start bothering me, you'll wake up upside down against the far wall."

He snuggled his head into her stomach. "Acceptable terms," he mumbled.

She resumed stroking his hair with a drowsy smile

Shepard couldn't be sure when she fell asleep, but sometime that night she woke to a strange flash, followed by a faint giggle. _Mental note:_ _Kill Kasumi. _On that pleasant thought, she fell back asleep.

* * *

><p>James woke from one of the best night's sleep of his life to a numb arm and a fierce need to piss. Easing his arm out from behind her back, he was rewarded with pins and needles shooting from his wrist to his shoulder. Shepard shifted positions and he held his breath. After the strange night they'd had, he wanted a little space before having to speak to her. When her eyes remained closed, he retreated to the washroom.<p>

By the time he emerged, she was sitting up and yawning. He paused in the doorway to take in the rare sight of Shepard the woman, not the Commander. Somehow she seemed years younger in this unaffected state.

She turned and smiled at him. His heart tried to jump across the room without him.

"How'd you sleep?" she asked.

"Pretty damn good. You?"

"Not bad."

"Look, I gotta get back to my room and get changed, take a shower." He needed to escape before he screwed this up again.

"See you later?"

"Count on it, Lola."

She let him go, content in the knowledge that sometime in the night, things had changed between them. She wasn't sure quite how it had happened, but she knew it was for the better.

She smiled.

They had her up on crutches later that day, and two days later she was free of the brace entirely and cleared to walk unassisted again. Even knowing how and why, the doctors were amazed at the speed of the Commander's recovery. Shepard was sure her Cerberus implants inspired more than a few new experiments in the few days she'd been there. More than once she'd overheard one doctor or another grilling Miranda on her physiology and the particulars of the rebuilding process.

"You can move to guest quarters today, but only if you take it easy, and by which, I mean _walking only. No running, no fighting,_" Doctor Griffon droned on, the look in his eyes telling her in no uncertain terms there would be hell to pay if she overdid it and re-broke her leg. He needn't have worried. The likelihood of her needing to engage in combat here was minimal, and she'd spent more than her fair share of time laid up in hospitals over the last six months as it was. She was more than willing to take it easy for a few days if it meant she could avoid them for a while.

"We'll need you to check in with us every morning so we can ensure you're healing properly, but if all goes well by the end of the week you should be cleared for high impact activities. Another week after that and you should be back to full combat again."

"Thanks, Doc," Shepard said, pulling a t-shirt over her head.

A man appeared in the doorway. Dark-skinned. Attractive. Confident. Impeccably dressed. Shepard raised an eyebrow in question as she pulled the hem of her shirt down past her sports bra and smoothed it over her stomach. "Can I help you?" her aloof tone belied the politeness of the question.

He stepped into the room, extending a hand. "Actually, I'm here to help you. I'm Boyd. I'm the administrator of this settlement. Doctor Griffon here has informed me that you're being discharged. I'm here to show you to your quarters."

"From what I hear, my crew is staying right outside the hospital. I'm sure I can find it on my own."

The man cleared his throat. "As you well know, Commander, you're somewhat of a celebrity. Our little town would like to extend you our hospitality. We have private guest quarters prepared for you, just a block away. If you'd prefer to stay with your crew I can make other arrangements though. We'd like you to be as comfortable as possible."

She considered her options. "A little privacy would be nice," she finally said, smiling wryly. "Lead the way," she added.

It was a warm day, and Shepard walked into a wall of heat as she left the comfort of the hospital's air conditioning. "Wow," she said, wiping an arm across her forehead. "I didn't realise how warm it is here."

"If it makes you feel any better, your quarters are air-conditioned. It does tend to stay in the mid-to high thirties most days." He looked up at the sky. Following suit, Shepard noted the bank of thick, fluffy clouds on the horizon. "Should be due for one of our storms tonight." He grinned wolfishly. "We tend to get pretty spectacular ones here."

She nodded, walking slowly by his side. She saw a couple of buildings set apart from the settlement, and Garrus waved from outside one, jogging over to join them. "Welcome back to the world, Shepard. Did you finally get enough beauty sleep?"

"You're just jealous, Vakarian, because no amount of sleep could improve your ugly mug."

The Turian laughed and put a hand on her shoulder. "It's good to have you back, Shepard."

"How long's it been, six months?"

Garrus nodded. "Palaven took a lot of damage during the war. I've been helping with rebuilding the government and organising what's left of our military to keep order."

"Earth's pretty much the same. Anderson grounded me for a while doing non-combat groundwork. I think he thought I could use the down time." She made a face.

"Smart man," Garrus replied, earning himself a glare. "In his position, I'd have done the same."

Her glare hardened.

They had passed into a residential area as they spoke. "We actually have four different guest residences spread throughout the settlement. The closest one is at the end of this block. We chose this one in particular because of its proximity to the hospital."

"Thanks for that," offered Shepard.

"As you can see, this area of town is dedicated to residences. The general store and bar are two blocks up that way," Boyd said as he pointed further down the street. "Our two other research facilities are up that street," he pointed in another direction. "And our farm is at the other end of the valley."

"You have a farm?" Shepard asked.

"Absolutely. Aria is very committed to making this settlement as self-sustaining as possible. We have grains, cattle, produce, and we're even starting a vineyard."

"That's a lot to get done in such a short time."

"When you have the resources Aria does, things get done."

"Still, looks like she must have been planning this for a while."

Boyd nodded. "From what I gather, she's wanted to reclaim Lorek from the Batarians for a long time. The Reaper attack here gave her the opportunity. Most of the buildings here have been moved from destroyed colonies elsewhere."

A shudder passed through Shepard, and for a moment she was sixteen again. _Smoke burned her eyes. The screams from outside the barn echoed in her ears, even over the sound of the cows pressed around her. Steam rose from their bodies as they mooed and shuffled around in their nervousness. Squatted in the filth and stench in the middle of the pen fuzzy legs nudged her, threatening to knock her over. Wondering if a stampede would finish her off before the Batarians even got the chance to._

She blinked and returned to the present. She looked around, realising how much this little colony reminded her of the place she grew up. The lush green, the prefab buildings. The serenity. It felt like coming home.

And it hurt. Sixteen years of running, and the universe had brought her back. It wasn't Mindoir, but it might as well have been.

"Shepard," asked Garrus. "You okay?"

"Yeah. This place just brings back memories." Boyd turned off the street and approached the front door of a small building with a neat, well-kept yard. Shepard followed, with Garrus in tow. The Turian looked on sympathetically. He knew of her childhood home, and wondered how far she'd pushed down the pain of losing it. _Pretty far, knowing Shepard._

"Do you have horses?" she asked. She'd been visiting the horse paddock when the Batarians attacked. The fact that she was right next to the cow barn was probably all that saved her. Their heat signatures had hidden hers from the scanners.

"A couple dozen, actually. With the small size of the colony, horses are an efficient way to move the cows, and to get around close to town."

"I'd like to see them sometime, if it's okay."

Boyd flashed a heart-melting smile. "Absolutely. Just let me know, and I or one of the other citizens can take you. He opened the front door, showing off a living area-slash-kitchen, with a hallway that led off to the right. "Bathroom and bedroom are down the hall. We had some food moved in, and one of your men brought your things by earlier today."

Shepard nodded. "Thanks."

"There's a terminal here where you can call off-planet, and you can contact me. If you need anything just ask."

"I think I'm good here. I'll let you know if anything comes up."

Boyd nodded and made his exit.

"Do you want some privacy, Shepard?" asked Garrus.

"Would you mind? Just for a bit. I've had a steady stream of people through my room for the last few days, so I'd like a little time to myself, if that's okay?"

"Absolutely." Garrus surprised her by pulling her into a rough hug. "I'm glad you're okay," he said as he released her.

She nodded, and he left.

Shepard heaved a long sigh. It was the first time she'd been alone, really alone, for a very long time. She walked from room to room, trailing her fingers over walls and countertops as she went. It was a basic unit. Well-set-up, but basic. Small shower. Big bed. The eating area was two stools at the end of the kitchen countertop. Shepard's duffel was sitting on top of the dresser in the bedroom. She wasted no time setting the lock on the front door, stripping down and taking a long shower. For her, at least, ten minutes was a long shower.

She dried herself quickly with the big, fluffy towel from the linen closet, and dressed in a matching N-7 black-with-red-stripe shorts and muscle shirt before checking her pistol and placing it on the bedside table. She closed the shades and laid down on top of the covers in the big bed.

* * *

><p>She woke some time later, relaxed and refreshed. Throwing on a pair of sandals some nice person had left inside the front door, she headed out her front door, determined to feel the sun on her skin and forget that awful hospital smell.<p>

Liara and James were playing cards a table in the yard. James looked up from his hand, relieved. "Thank God, Lola. This woman is kicking my ass."

Shepard took another look at the table. "Crib? Liara is kicking your ass at crib? I thought you were a poker kind of guy."

"She won't play me," he grumbled.

"If I recall correctly," Liara interjected, "I 'kicked your ass' last time we played poker, as well." She stared across the table at him, a hint of smugness turning her mouth.

"Not really fair to clean a guy out and not give him the chance to make it back," said James.

"Really, Liara? I remember a time when you couldn't manage a poker face to save your life," Shepard argued.

"I've done some growing up since then." Her expression turned feral. "And I have gotten _very _good at playing people."

"Unless you want to lose your shirt again, Vega, I advise you avoid the near occasion of poker with our resident Asari," Shepard said with a pointed look. "So what's everyone else up to?"

James shrugged. "Hanging out at our place. We all agreed to let you sleep as long as you needed. We decided to take shifts out here until you appeared."

"Which I have. How long was I out?"

"Couple of hours. We didn't even make it to the second shift."

"Why don't we grab the others and you guys can show me around," Shepard suggested. "Looks like this is going to be my home for a while. Might as well get the lay of the land."

"Good idea," Liara said, gathering the cards and the crib board and joining Shepard. James flanked her on the other side as they walked back in the direction of the hospital.

Everyone was lounging outside, enjoying the sunshine. Zaeed leaned against the water tank, puffing away on a cigar. Tali and Garrus were deep in conversation, foreheads almost touching over a projected image over Tali's arm. Shepard assumed they were solving some engineering problem. Kaidan and Miranda lay in the grass looking up at the sky with their heads together. Kaidan pointed up at the sky and laughed while Miranda made skeptical noises with her eyebrows together. A faint shimmer betrayed Kasumi, perched on the edge of the roof on the front corner of the prefab building behind them.

"You!" Shepard pointed to the empty space occupied by the thief. "Get your ass down here."

A petulant sigh prefaced Kasumi's reappearance, her outline shimmering as her black-clad form materialized out of thin air. "What is it this time, Shepard?"

"You know damn well. Sneaking into my room last night and taking pictures?" Arms crossed over her chest, Shepard stared down the small woman.

Kasumi jumped down the two-plus meters to the ground and landed lightly on her feet. Dusting off her butt, she approached the Commander. James held his ground by Shepard's side, watching Kasumi. "Let me show you something," said the thief.

Kasumi started walking around the edge of the building. "Not you," she stared at James when he made to follow. He stopped. Liara made her way to the front door and sat down on the step.

Shepard followed the woman around the corner. "What was so important it warranted invading my privacy?" Shepard asked, annoyed.

"This." Kasumi tapped a few buttons on the holo-interface for her omni-tool, and brought up a picture.

Shepard studied the image for a while. In it, she looked comfortable. Peaceful. If she wasn't looking at the evidence, she wouldn't have believed herself capable of such a thing. James had his arms around her middle like she was his teddy bear. A faint smile lent a youthful air to his face.

It was beautiful. Shepard blinked away the unbidden moisture in her eyes.

"I came by to check on you. It wasn't my intention to pry, but you two were just so…"

"Yeah," Shepard agreed.

"I thought you might want this. I already sent it to you."

"Thanks." She wasn't sure if she had the strength to look at that picture again. Or the strength to look away if she did. There was so much hope, so much promise in that image. She wondered if anything would ever come of it. "Okay, fine. You're forgiven. In the future though, please refrain from spying on me while I sleep."

"Aw, Shepard. What would be the fun of that?" Kasumi's tinkling laughter faded as she walked back around the edge of the building.

Shepard followed her around the corner back to their companions. "So, what's there to do in this town?" she asked.

"Plenty of fishing," Kaidan offered.

"Tempting but… no," she replied. "Any other suggestions?"

"You can swim in the lake, and there are horses," Tali spoke up.

"There's a bar. Drinking and dancing?" asked James.

Shepard pointed a finger at James. "No dancing for at _least _a couple of days."

Garrus broke into a fake coughing fit to cover his laughter. Shepards lack of skills on the dance floor had reached near-legendary status.

"_But_," she added with a glare at the doubled-over Turian, "I could definitely go for a drink or six. Anywhere outside the bar you can buy the stuff?"

"The general store carries it," Zaeed said.

"Well, then. Off to the general store. Lead the way, Massani. Someone can give me the tour on the way."

As a group they set off to make the three-block trek to the general store. Liara pointed out important buildings (all three of them) as they went. The few people in the streets or yards along the way stopped and stared. Shepard made a point of smiling and waving, feeling ridiculous as she did.

_Feels like a goddamn parade. _

The odd group made quick work of the trip, and Shepard had never been one to dawdle or sightsee. Laden with enough alcohol to pickle the entire group twice over, they made their way back to the crew's quarters. They spent the 'evening' and most of the 'night' sitting on the grass outside drinking, peppered with peals of laughter and punctuated with good-natured insults.

That night, Shepard and James engaged in an intricate dance, where each hovered just at the edge of the other's space without ever directly engaging. Many times their gazes almost met, for one or both to slide away. The night before had made things awkward, and both treaded carefully, not sure how to proceed.

It was frustrating, to say the least, for Shepard. She was accustomed to attacking problems head-on, not dancing around them. More than once she had to prevent herself from getting up, walking over to the Lieutenant and asking him where they stood. She had to remind herself that he didn't know any more than she did, and besides, she didn't want to fuck things up with him like she had last time.

So she stayed quiet. She traded stories, and laughed, and got rip-roaring drunk, and all without actually _speaking_ to Vega the entire night. When she could no longer see straight, Zaeed half-carried her back to her cabin, and made sure she found her bed.

Many, many hours later she found herself there, still in her shorts and tank top from the previous afternoon, laying diagonally across the bed with her head at the foot, comforter twisted into a mess beneath her.

Her mouth was dry. Her head throbbed dully. Her left arm was numb from sleeping on top of it. She stumbled out of bed, peeling her clothes off and tossing them on the floor on her way to the bathroom. It wasn't until she'd answered the call of nature, showered, dressed in clean clothes, and brushed her teeth that she felt somewhat human again.

Somewhat. She was still in desperate need of food. Checking the fridge in the kitchen, she was pleasantly surprised to find it stocked with fruit, vegetables, and milk, among other things. She poured a large glass of milk, guzzled it, and scarfed down a couple of energy bars.

Pulling her shoes on, she made her way back to the hospital for her daily checkup. She waved at Garrus and Tali, who were sitting on the steps of their prefab as she strode past. They returned the gesture.

Shepard recognised the nurse behind the desk when she walked into the hospital. The woman directed her back to her old room with a smile and promised to summon Doctor Griffon.

The doctor completed his scans in just a couple of minutes. "Did you know you're a medical marvel?" he asked her, shaking his head.

"I spent two years dead. Pretty sure that qualifies," she replied dryly.

"Always thought that was a rumor. Deep cover kind of stuff."

"Ha. I wish. Being resurrected by a terrorist organisation is highly overrated. Believe me."

"Well, your body shows no evidence that you were injured at all, never mind the fact that you very nearly died days ago. I'd still like for you to take it easy for a little longer, just to be safe. But you can run again in two days."

Shepard let out her breath in a relieved _whoosh_. "So do I need to come back for any more checkups?"

"Once more the day after tomorrow. It's mostly a formality but I'd like to double-check, just to be safe."

Shepard nodded. "So when am I allowed to go borrow myself a horse?"

"You're good to go," he replied with a smile. "Try not to get tossed."

"Always," she replied with a smile that made her ten years younger, and hopped down off the bed. "And thank-you. You and all of the staff here have been great."

"It's not every day you get to save a genuine hero. It was my pleasure."

Shepard's feet barely touched the ground as she left the hospital.


	16. Chapter 16

Shepard made the rest of the day an impromptu 'girls' day'. She invited Liara and Tali to go horseback riding with her, barring a shortage of mounts. Kasumi tagged along as well, though one look close-up, and she opted out of the actual riding-of-the-horses part. Miranda begged off, choosing instead to tour the research facilities. Shepard suspected she may be looking to join the colony. _She'd be a good fit here. _

Tali and Liara had never seen a horse in person, and both had a gleeful little-girl reaction to the animals. Tali was nervous but delighted, and Liara was curious but calm. The owner helped them pick out and saddle their mounts, and pointed out a five-kilometer trail that would lead them up into the hills and loop around the vineyard before returning them to the barn.

Shepard and Liara grilled Tali as they rode; on her relationship with Garrus, the rebuilding efforts on Rannoch, and what she'd been up to since the end of the war. Turns out many Quarians were already suit-free. Without the aid of the Geth, that would have taken years.

"Leave it to you, Shepard, to end a centuries-long feud by yelling the loudest," Tali said, a smile in her voice. "I would never have believed there could be peace with the Geth."

"After seeing the archives, it was pretty obvious to me that all the Geth had been trying to do is survive. They make damn good allies, once you get to know them."

"Now that I know a few, I completely agree."

"The Quarian people are pretty much the only race to come out of this war better than they started," Liara commented, patting the neck of the gentle brown mare she rode.

"Yes, but much of that was an accident in timing," countered Tali.

"I wanted to kill your Admirals for that. What good is reclaiming your homeworld when you have an incomprehensibly destructive army bearing down on you?"

"Can you really blame us for taking the opportunity?"

"No. And yes. So many people and resources could have been saved if you just joined us in a united front."

"If I recall, none of the other races did that, either."

Shepard huffed, and her mount skittered to the side. Holding the reins tighter, she continued. "Yeah. It was like pulling teeth convincing the species to fight together."

"But you did it," the blue-skinned Asari replied.

"No, _we _did it."

"I guess we did." Liara broke into a smile. Looking out over the treetops, she added, "It really is beautiful here, isn't it?"

Shepard took a long, deep breath of the clean, fresh air. "It's good to know that even with all the destruction the Reapers caused, places like this still exist."

"Two hundred kilometers from here is a crater where a city of five million people lived," Liara informed her.

"I knew there was a catch," Shepard replied. "Still beautiful here though."

"It really is," Tali agreed.

All three of the women were walking a little funny when they returned to the crew quarters.

"Lola! You look like you've been rode hard and put up wet," James called out by way of greeting. Shepard flipped him the bird as she walked up, slightly bow-legged.

"My legs were not designed to move like that," Tali whined as she sat down gingerly.

"Want me to rub them for you?" Garrus asked half-suggestively.

"I may take you up on that later."

Garrus grinned.

"But if you try anything I'm feeding you my shotgun."

Garrus slid a couple inches further away from the homicidal Quarian. Shepard chuckled. "Don't ever change, Tali."

"I take it you guys had fun?" James asked.

"I've never seen a horse up close, never mind ridden one. They're beautiful animals," Liara commented.

"It's been a long time. Kinda felt like being back home," Shepard responded with a smile.

That earned her incredulous looks, all around. _Home _was not a word in her vocabulary.

"What? You guys are all looking at me like I grew a second head."

"You're not exactly known for speaking fondly of your childhood. Or speaking of your childhood at all, actually," Miranda spoke up, appearing in the doorway.

Shepard shrugged. "It was time I reconciled with that. This place reminds me of Mindoir. Back before the raid. I used to really love it there." Her gaze grew distant. "I guess I forgot. It's been long enough I can remember the good things."

Liara looked on without comment. Shepard's emotional competence had been a subject that had crossed her desk more than once. Some wanted her restored to Spectre status. Others wanted her retired. The last couple of days Shepard had been the most relaxed she'd ever seen. She didn't know what had brought on the change (though she had her suspicions) but she'd take it.

"So, any plans for tonight?" James asked.

"Think I'm going to try sleeping. It's a novel idea, I know…" Shepard replied dryly.

James sighed. "Fine. I'll go to the bar alone."

"I'm sure there's at least half a dozen single young women who'd thank you for it," Tali replied. "You practically have a fan club."

"Why don't we plan to head there tomorrow night? I promised the doctor I'd take it easy for another couple of days." When no one raised any objection to the fledgling plan, she continued, "Now if you'll all excuse me, I'm going to soak my sore ass with a hot bath." With that, Shepard headed back to her cabin.

* * *

><p>After the rare indulgence of deliberately sleeping in, Shepard got dressed in the late morning with one thing in mind.<p>

She showered, dug out her old casual alliance uniform and sat herself in front of the desk in her apartment. Tapping a few keys on her omni-tool and syncing it up with the built-in monitor, she squared her shoulders as the call went through and sat back in her chair.

Joker's face appeared before her. "Shepard! Figured you'd still be up to your eyebrows in doctors right about now. Looking pretty good for someone who almost kicked it last week."

"Thanks," Shepard replied wryly. She'd long since gotten used to the pilot's sarcasm and insubordination. She tolerated it because it was a refreshing change from bootlicking and he was one hell of a pilot. Pulled her ass out of the fire more times than she could count. Literally, in one case. On the mission where she'd first met Liara, back when the woman was still a naïve scientist, Joker had swooped down with the _Normandy _to rescue them from a volcano they'd accidentally reactivated.

Such is the life when you're Commander Shepard.

"So how are you feeling?" Joker asked.

"Pretty damn good, considering. Doctors cleared me for pretty much everything. I'm hoping to get back to active duty soon."

"Well, you're in luck. Doctor Kahlee Sanders joined us two days ago, so Anderson has been in a good mood." Joker waggled his eyebrows.

"That's _Admiral _Anderson to you," Shepard admonished. "Is he available or should I call back later?"

"The Admiral is currently indisposed. He will speak to you in ten minutes," EDI volunteered from off-monitor.

"Thanks, EDI. Looks like we'll have time to talk." Shepard smiled and relaxed into her seat. "Any idea how the Council has been coming along?"

EDI's shiny metallic body appeared behind Joker's pilot seat. "I believe they have decided to take your advice to heart and grant seats to each of the sentient races."

"Advice, my ass," Shepard replied. "Is there a word for repeated browbeating in the form of yelling?"

"I believe the term you are looking for is 'persistence'," EDI offered.

"I was thinking of something a little more violent," Shepard countered. "Any decision on giving the Geth a seat?"

"I believe it was decided to assemble the Council, then let the members make the final judgement."

"Damn. Better than nothing though. I guess that's better than an outright 'no'."

EDI nodded. "It may take time for people to get over their fear of Synthetics, especially considering the Geth's part in the Reaper War, not to mention the Reapers themselves."

"You were enough to convince me," Shepard replied. "Maybe we should just have you talk to them."

EDI laughed. "If only it were so easy."

Shepard chuckled along. "Hey, Joker, how's the limp?"

"How's the nonexistent love life?" he fired back, wrapping an arm around EDI.

"Touché," Shepard replied.

"So when are you going to come take your ship back?" Joker changed the subject, only half-kidding.

"What, blast through the skylight in the Captain's Quarters and take her back, guns blazing?"

"That level of detail tells me you've thought far too much about doing precisely that," a new male voice replied as the feed abruptly switched to Anderson, sitting behind the desk in the aforementioned captain's quarters.

"Just a bit of idle fantasy, sir. Nothing serious." Shepard sat upright again.

"Ha. I'd be concerned if you _hadn't _thought about it. This ship has always been yours, Shepard," said Anderson. "So, how are you feeling?"

"Good to go, Admiral. Doctor should give me the all-clear to return to duty tomorrow."

Anderson's face spread in a genuine smile. "Well, then. I guess now is the time to tell you that Liara T'Soni and I have found you a ship, and you're to return to your Spectre duties as soon as possible."

Shepard felt like she needed to sit down. Then she realised she already was. In her wildest dreams, she hadn't expected this. After waiting for so long, to have this just dropped in her lap? Relief washed over her.

"It's about damn time, don't you think?" Anderson echoed her thoughts.

"Hell, yes. So what's the ship like?"

"It's going to need some work. When you get back to the Citadel we'll show her to you, and you can have a say in the retro-fit."

"What, no hints?" she asked with a grin.

"Nope. It's not every day I get to see you surprised. Or horrified, as the case may be. We'll see," he added with his own secretive smile.

"So that was the hold up? I couldn't get reinstated until I had a ship to work out of?"

"That was just the last piece of the puzzle. With almost all the Councillors dead and governments all over the galaxy in disarray, there was really no Council to speak of. So the Spectres had no real authority anymore. Then when we decided to restructure the Council completely, we needed to wait on the new one to decide if the Spectre program would continue at all. Meanwhile, the Alliance was working to get you back in business, in whatever capacity."

"But since I spent a good portion of the last six months recuperating…"

"Alenko got both your ship and your assignment."

Shepard nodded. "It's frustrating for me, but I get it. He's a good man, a good soldier. In your position, I'd have done the same."

David Anderson let out a breath, and his shoulders sagged a fraction. "It's good to hear you say it. I hated putting you on the back burner like that, but the job needed to get done and Kaidan was ready to go."

"How did you talk him into working with Miranda? After his reaction to my working with Cerberus," Shepard made a face, "I would have thought he'd refuse to work with her outright."

"I told him she was instrumental in saving you after the final run on the Reaper beam, and that besides having more intel on Cerberus than any living person who was willing to work with us, she's got plenty of reasons to want the organisation disassembled."

"And that was enough to convince him?" she asked incredulously.

Anderson grimaced. "Not quite. I had to tell him it was no Lawson, no ship. Miranda and the assignment were a package deal."

"Ha. I knew there was more to it than Kaidan reaching out to her for help. Lying bastards."

"They were making pretty good headway before they got redirected to rescue you."

"Good to hear. It sounds like they're going to join forces with Zaeed Massani and continue on together without me after they're done here."

He nodded. "Good. After that ambush you faced, I'll feel better knowing they have some back-up."

"Zaeed's got a lot of experience, and he's damn good in a fight. Aside from a few arguments, they'll do fine." She chuckled to herself. "He'll know how to push Kaidan's buttons, that's for sure."

"You'll be needing transport back to the Citadel soon, then."

"Yup."

"When should I arrange for a shuttle?"

"Day after tomorrow? Twelve hundred?"

"Sounds good," he replied. "We'll arrange for you to tour your new ship after you arrive. I'll be docked at the Citadel for resupply so I'll give you the tour myself."

"It'll be good to see you."

"You too, Shepard. The crew will have a couple of days off, so you can catch up."

"I'd like that. Make sure you send a shuttle big enough to carry all of us. The others will probably join me on the trip back."

"Absolutely. See you in a couple of days, Shepard."

"Count on it, Anderson. Tell Kahlee I said hi."

"I'll do that."


End file.
